


~ I Do ~

by LondonGypsy



Series: 'I Do' [1]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, Sexy Times, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First meetings.<br/>Getting to know each other.<br/>Falling in love.<br/>Getting married.<br/>Sounds pretty normal, doesn't it?!<br/>Well, it might be - if you weren't Benedict Cumberbatch.<br/>That makes things a bit ... different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame TIFF '14 for this: B being all cuddly and cozy with other men, talking about gay sex (or the lack thereof) and just generally being his very inspiring self.  
> Seriously, I don't know why I always pair him up with pretty men, it definitely works in my head.  
> (And it only works with OMC's, never with anyone he knows in RL, which is funny but hey, even my Muse has her boundaries) 
> 
> Anyhow: as always a big Thank You to my darling betas [OzGirlGlinda](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OzGirlGlinda/pseuds/OzGirlGlinda) and [Barawen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Barawen/pseuds/Barawen)

"Benedict Cumberbatch: Married!!!" 

That was basically it: THE headline all over print and online media, spreading like wildfire on television - the BBC even interrupted their morning program for it. 

It quickly became the most talked about news of the day all over the world. 

The internet exploded, social media and news sites crashed alike, newspapers sold out, in short: the entire western world was in shock. 

Benedict Cumberbatch, most sought after actor of the 21st century, a three time Emmy, two time Golden Globe and one time Oscar winner, got secretly married and nobody had suspected a thing. 

There hadn't been rumours, he hadn't even been seen with anyone, **nobody** had suspected anything. 

And yet he was off the market, breaking a million hearts in the process. 

He was a married man. 

But the even bigger news, the one thing that sent the world into an utter frenzy was that he had married his boyfriend of two years! 

Boyfriend?!?!

"But he isn't gay," was the most used sentence that day. 

"Well, he's bi, obviously," was the most used response to it. 

*

While the world's buzzing with this, speculating as to who the lucky man was and how the heck they managed to keep their relationship out of the public eye for so long, let's have a look at the happy couple. 

It's early on this lovely spring morning and the flat a little outside of the heart of London is quiet, sunlight bathing the rooms in a warm light. 

There in the bedroom, unfazed by the madness a small headline has created, are two heads, resting next to each other on the pillow, still sleeping peacefully. 

On a closer look we can make out very familiar auburn curls, a bit tousled, and a blond - unfamiliar - head. 

They're cuddled together, arms and legs entwined under the covers, noses almost touching, their breathing in sync. 

The rising sun casts long beams into the room, illuminating the well known face, making its owner stir at the warmth. 

Benedict snuffles, squeezing shut lids tighter and turns his head away from the offending brightness. 

He's slowly waking although he tries very hard not to; the bed's warm and cosy, his thoughts still blessedly hazy and he's got absolutely nothing to do today. 

Nevertheless, we can almost see that there's something not quite right, his eyes move faster behind closed lids. 

Suddenly they snap open only to be closed again with a groan before they blink open much more carefully. 

We can see how they focus in on the face in front of him and then there's a small smile blooming on full lips. 

There's some shifting and then his hand comes in view, large palm with long, slender fingers, emerging from under the cover, a random beam of sunlight catching on something metal and reflects against pale skin. 

Elegant brows furrow as he inspects it, an expression of awe slowly forming on his sleep soft face. He moves his hand, purposefully directing the sunlight over the small silver band on his finger and just as we start to worry a little, the lingering smile on his lips grows wider. It transforms his entire face. Blue-green-gold eyes sparkle, crinkles appear around them, deepening the more the smile widens, and for a moment it seems as if he's glowing from the inside. 

It's blindingly beautiful. 

It's pure joy and utter happiness. 

It's private and devastatingly honest - and it's not for anyone to see so we avert our eyes. 

A series of slow motions and a soft groan has us look over to the other person in the bed, also waking now, instantly drawn towards Benedict's warmth. 

Long blond lashes flutter and gradually reveal amber coloured eyes. 

No, wait, one eye is of this colour, the other one is deep blue, the hue of the sky at dusk. 

Squinting against the overly bright light they focus in on Benedict's joyful face, watching every motion with a mix of astonishment and surprise. 

Wordlessly the two look at each other, Benedict's bright smile fading into something less wide and yet much more intense; the love clearly visible in every line and crease on their faces. 

"Morning." 

It's murmured into the small space between them, slender fingers reaching out to touch a sleep warm cheek, the faintest of caresses. There's a content hum and shorter fingers cover long ones, the quiet clink of metal against metal loud in their ears. 

"Good morning... husband." 

It's only a whisper against Benedict's lips but it rings through the room, meaningful even in its softness and makes them both smile a little bit wider. 

"Husband," murmurs Benedict huskily, letting it roll over his tongue, so very new in its meaning and yet the oldest word in the world. 

We hear a quiet chuckle; noses brush against one another before gentle lips touch in the most delicate kiss. 

"You think...?" Benedict asks, only to be silenced by another kiss, less tender now. 

"Ssh, don't spoil it just yet." 

"Sorry." 

High cheekbones colour ever so slightly as searching fingers run lovingly over his naked back under the covers. 

"Come here, husband, kiss me again." 

Groaning quietly, he shifts closer, losing himself in another kiss, more demanding now, leaving them both a little breathless when they part. 

Eyes darken and hands tangle in disheveled hair, warm bodies press against one another, and for us it's time to leave these two, allow them a few more undisturbed moments in their peaceful bubble. 

Soon they will have to face the real world again, have to answer the same questions over and over again.

How they met, how they fell in love and how they promised to spend the rest of their lives together in a small clearing in Hampstead Heath. 

***

This is their story. 

***

Benedict's drunk, really properly drunk. Everything's a bit blurry around the edges, his legs a tiny bit wobbly but that doesn't keep him from dancing.

Sweat's trickling down his neck, and he knows that his hair is a terrible mess, clinging to his temples and the nape of his neck. His shirt is soaked, sticking to his back and it would be bothering him, if he wasn't that drunk. 

He doesn't care. 

He's just wrapped on a tiring and mentally exhausting project, the next job is still a few weeks away, and he gladly dances away the last remains of the character he's been carrying around for the last three months. 

He can feel him leave his mind, dying away bit by bit with every tune, and he smiles a bit ruefully. 

"Serves you right, you bastard," he mumbles to himself. 

"Who are you calling a bastard, mate?" 

Benedict grins widely. 

"If the shoe fits," he mutters, lazily turning around, "... James." 

James raises a sarcastic eyebrow at him. 

"You can talk," he shoots back, the mock glare on his face quickly dissolving into a wide grin, "... bastard." 

"Always nice to see you too," Benedict almost throws himself at his friend, enveloping him in a tight hug - and if he holds on to him to not fall to the ground, he won't admit it.

"Ugh, you're sticky, man," James complains, pushing away from him. 

Benedict chuckles, clapping a hand on the other man's shoulder and leans closer. 

"And I totally don't care," he mutters conspiratorially, giggling at James' indignant expression as he lets sharp eyes flicker over Benedict's deranged figure. 

"Oh God, and he's drunk too," James states, his eyebrows vanishing in his hairline, which Benedict finds incredibly hilarious at this point. 

"Wrapped today, did ya?", James then asks, knowing Benedict well enough that he doesn't need an actual answer. They don't see each other as much as they like lately, but James has always been able to read his friend like an open book and he knows how draining that last job was. He'd been there to distract him when it all got a tad too much and Benedict had needed someone to keep him sane and make sure his character didn't eat him alive. 

"Yup," Benedict slurs as he runs a hand through his hair, for the umpteenth time this evening. 

"God, I can't wait to get rid of this fucking hair," he whines, making James laugh. 

"Your fans will mourn the loss." 

"Me too," a dark voice says from behind them, "there's less to keep a hold on then." 

James barks out a laugh. 

"Oi, keep your dirty thoughts to yourself," he says dryly before he hugs a tall, blond man, who had suddenly appeared at their side. 

"Ben, this is Alex, a friend of mine. Alex, this is Benedict. And no, you're not allowed to play with his hair." 

"Spoil sport," the man says, winking at Benedict as he holds out his hand, "you finally bring me to meet the famous Cumberbatch and then you deny me my deepest fantasy." 

He pouts mockingly as he shakes Benedict's hand, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 

Benedict watches the banter with glassy eyes, his drunken gaze flickering over Alex before he grins and leans down. 

"Go ahead," he chuckles, poking his head in the direction of the man, "tonight I can't deny anyone's desires." 

Alex shoots a triumphant glare in James' direction and reaches up, running a hand through tousled curls. 

"Eww, you two are disgusting," James shudders in playful distaste. 

"Hush Rhodes, don't destroy a boy's dream," Alex smirks, grabbing a handful of Benedict's hair and pulling his head down. 

"Oi, careful there," Benedict protests half-heartedly. 

"Not my fault that you're tall as a tree," counters Alex smoothly, burying both hands in his hair. 

"Neither is it mine that you're only Hobbit size." 

Despite his protest he bends down anyway, shifting his stance to keep his balance. 

"Yes," Alex drawls, the grin audible in his tone, "it  _is_ as glorious as I imagined. Shame you dislike it so much." 

Benedict is too drunk to care about the strange looks their little group gets. His eyes slide closed as he leans into the touch, letting out a quiet purr at the feeling of Alex's surprisingly gentle hands on his head. 

"And you owe me 10 quid," Alex casually says to James when he lets go, leaving Benedict stumbling and a bit lost as he takes his hands away. 

He blinks at the two men. 

"Huh?" 

"Och, he said, you'd never let a stranger touch your hair. I said you would, and you did." 

James snorts and digs through his pockets, producing a ten pound note and hands it to Alex, grumbling curses. 

"Yeah well, didn't know he would be that pissed," he says, shooting daggers at Benedict, who watches the exchange with wide eyes, "you're lucky you're among friends tonight. Who knows what else you would do otherwise." 

"Getting laid?" Alex throws in, winking cheekily at Benedict, who only smiles stupidly at them. 

He has no idea what's happening. 

"Christ, Ben, you're fucking wasted," James teases, smacking a hand on his shoulder and sends him stumbling against Alex who steadies him with a hand against his chest. Humming lowly, his fingertips rest a moment too long against him before he lets go with a sigh. 

"Working out, are you?" he asks slyly, his eyes sliding appreciatively over Benedict's upper body. 

"Jesus, Alex, behave," James grumbles, elbowing the man in the side. 

Benedict watches them closely with narrowed eyes until understanding seeps into his hazy mind. 

Leaning forward, he stares searchingly into Alex's face until he seems to find what he's looking for. 

"You are gay," he then proclaims, radiating a drunken pride, that he figured that out all on his own. 

James rolls his eyes and barks out a laugh. 

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock." 

Turning to Alex, he gestures dramatically at Benedict who starts swaying to the music again. 

"See what I have to deal with? Not the least bit as clever as he makes us believe. Seriously, I don't understand why they always let him play the smart guys.” 

Benedict stops dancing and throws an arm over James' and Alex's shoulders, pulling them close. 

"Because I'm...," he says, pondering for a moment, "a very clever... actor.” 

His tone is earnest but as soon as he's said it, he dissolves into giggles, not able to stop and infects the other two as well until they're wheezing with laughter. 

James is the first to recover. Pulling himself together, he exhales deeply and lays a hand on Benedict's arm. 

"You, my dear, are drunk as fuck and need to get home." 

"'m not," he protests but James nods at Alex, and together they steer Benedict towards the door. 

"God, he's adorable," Alex gushes as Benedict waves heartily at no-one in particular as they slowly make their way out. 

"Yeah, just you wait till the morning then he's not as adorable at all. Have you ever seen a tiger woken from deep sleep? That's harmless to a hung over Benedict, I tell you that." 

James grabs Benedict's jacket and throws it unceremoniously over his shoulders, before they step outside into a cool night. 

"Want me to take him home? Not that far from my place," Alex asks not so innocently, helping to light the cigarette Benedict managed to fumble out of his pockets and between his lips. 

"You're so good to me," Benedict coos, inhaling deeply, getting lost in the orange glow of the tip of the cigarette. 

James' eyes widen in mocked shock. 

"Hell no! He's helpless as a kitten when he's drunk like this and I know you. Not happening, sunshine." 

Alex pouts. 

"You're such a party pooper." 

"Different colours!" Benedict suddenly blurts into the quiet of the night, starting the other two. 

"What?" James asks, glaring at him.

Benedict gestures uncoordinated at Alex, grinning lopsidedly. 

"His eyes." 

"Well, aren't you the observant one today, he has two even," James says dryly. 

"They're funny." 

That's all Benedict manages to say before he elegantly bows over and vomits into a hydrangea bush.

*

He wakes with a terrible headache and the taste of rotten hay in his mouth. Groaning he rolls away from the too bright lights and promptly finds himself on the floor, his aching body throbbing painfully. 

"Wha...?" he mutters, squinting around the sitting room - that is not his own.

"Ah, you're finally awake." 

James' voice floats into the room, followed by the man himself as he walks in, mercilessly dragging Benedict into a sitting position, pushing a pill between his lips and handing him a glass of water.

"Drink," he commands. 

Benedict knows that tone and obeys, emptying the glass in one quick drink. The glass gets exchanged with a dry piece of toast on which he chews carefully. 

Slowly the fog in his brain clears: he's at James' place, he can spy the piano in the corner. He makes a questioning sound, not able to form proper words just yet. 

"You were way too pissed to make it all the way home to your place," James says, sitting on the sofa that Benedict's currently leaning against. 

"Did I," he starts, swallowing around the foul taste in his mouth, "did I...?" 

"No, you didn't puke into my car, thanks for that," James grins, patting Benedict's shoulder. "But you proposed to every single person we met on the way here. Including Alex, who's probably already bought his wedding suit." 

Benedict's head whips around, groaning at the pain that motion causes and stares at his friend.

"I did what???" 

James giggles. 

"Relax, I prevented the worst. Although, hearing you sing _Beyoncé_ to the cat was pretty fucking hilarious." 

"Oh God, poor kitty, is she okay?" 

"A bit traumatised but nothing a few cuddles can't redeem," James laughs, standing up. 

"I've put a towel out for you, and some clean clothes. I'm off to rehearsals. Don't scare the cat more than you already have, I really hate to pluck her up from the cupboard again." 

"I promise." 

"And try not to die in my shower, okay? I don't want to have to explain that to your fans, or your agents for that matter." 

With that said, he turns and leaves; Benedict hears the front door close quietly. 

He stays sitting on the floor, blanket pooled around his waist and keeps nibbling on his toast, willing his churning stomach to calm down. 

When he has the feeling that he's not about to throw up again, he scrambles to his feet and wanders towards the bathroom, hoping a shower will help to clear his head a bit. 

*

20 minutes later he sits at James' kitchen table, wearing one of James' too tight shirts and nurses a cup of tea as the doorbell goes. 

The sound intensifies the pounding in his head and groaning he stumbles towards the door. Just as he pushes the handle, he realises that he's only wearing boxer briefs and a t-shirt. 

He can barely resist the instinct to slam the door shut again. 

A pair of differently coloured eyes widen for a second before he hears a soft laugh. 

"God, you look like shit." 

Benedict glares at the owner of the low voice, speechless at such a greeting. 

The sunny smile on the man's face fades as Benedict keeps glowering at him. 

"You don't remember me, do you? Shit, you must've had quite a bit then. Hi, I'm Alex, a friend of James', we met last night." 

Benedict hesitantly opens the door a bit wider, extending his hand automatically. 

"Nice to meet you... I guess," he grumbles lowly. 

Alex shakes it, lets go and walks past him as if he owns the place.

"James home?" he asks over his shoulder as he enters the sitting room. 

Closing the door Benedict hurries after him, 

"He's not, no, he went to rehearsals," he croaks, cringing at the huskiness of his voice. 

"God, you should drink more often, it makes your voice even sexier than it already is," Alex says coyly, flopping on the couch, waggling his eyebrows at Benedict who blushes furiously. 

"Aw, look at you, still adorable," Alex grins, his eyes darken as he lets them slide over Benedict's barely dressed figure, "and bleeding hot as well," he mutters quietly. 

"Can I do anything for you?," Benedict snaps, cursing the deepening flush he can feel on his face. 

Alex cocks his head and lays a finger on his lips, a gesture that has Benedict's blood boil. 

"Just keep standing there and talk to me?" 

Benedict growls annoyed, and the other man jumps to his feet, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. 

"I'm sorry, sometimes my mouth gets the better of me, my mum always said that'd get me in trouble one day. Sorry. I just popped 'round to bring James his phone back, he dropped it last night as he hauled you into his car." 

He puts the mobile on the table, smiles briefly at him and then starts for the door again. 

"I'd better be off then, didn't mean to annoy you," he sounds genuinely apologetic as he opens the door. He's half way out as he turns around again. 

"Oh, can you let him know that I've got some gig tickets for next month. If he wants to escape his piano for a bit and hear some real music." 

Benedict nods lamely, the attitude of the man too much for him in the state he's in. 

Hazily he stands in the hallway as Alex turns around once more, smirking at him. 

"By the way, that shirt is inside out." 

He laughs softly as Benedict looks down on himself. 

"Oh, and Benedict?" Alex says, "that invitation goes for you too... if you want to." 

His voice has lost the teasing tone, the words are sincere and a tad wistful even. 

"Would love to get to know you better," he adds gently. 

"I'll think about that," Benedict grumbles, the pounding in his head increasing again. 

"Get some sleep, that'll help with the head," Alex says, nodding and leaving the flat quietly. 

Benedict's still staring at the closed door long after he's gone before he stumbles back to the sofa, heavily falling down on it. 

Without a second thought he curls up on the sofa, pulling the blanket over him and falls asleep instantly. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sitting in the back, hidden in the shadows he can watch everyone but can't be watched himself. He likes it. 

Silently he thanks James for playing the old theatre with its tiny balconies, the velvet curtains and the secluded areas - lots of space for him to go unrecognised for one night and still enjoy himself. 

There are only three other people on the balcony with him and they don't show any sign of realising who he is, no nervous glances, no excited giggles, just the usual British nod of acknowledgement before they ignore him. 

He's happy, and as the lights dim, he puts his glasses on and leans forward. 

It's been way too long since he's seen James play. Whenever possible he tries to make his gigs but most times he's away, working. 

But it's Saturday night, he's off work for at least another week and James promised him a calm dinner afterwards, just the two of them and he's looking forward to that. 

For now he's going to lose himself in his friend's playing, bathe in Chopin and Beethoven and not think about anything. 

*

Seventy minutes later Benedict is one of the first on his feet, cheering and cat-calling at the man on stage, who crookedly grins at his applauding audience as he bows and then vanishes backstage. 

Benedict has to force himself to move, he's still in a bit of a daze; James' music always does that to him, calms him and wipes his brain, leaving him in a state of utter peace. 

They want to meet as soon as James is able to leave and if Benedict wants to keep that serene state he's in, he’d better hurry to avoid the crowd slowly filing for the doors. 

Donning his cap he slips into  his jacket and quickly walks toward the exit, keeping his head down. He makes it outside without being stopped once and he sighs relieved as he crosses the street, putting some space between the theatre and himself. 

He lights a cigarette and waits, keeping an eye on the entrance of the theatre. It doesn't have a stage door so James will leave through the front. He likes to chat with his fans so he doesn't mind at all. 

Benedict is familiar with this area and knows James is as well. He also understands Benedict’s need to get away from the crowd and will know where to look for him

People topple out of the doors, excitedly chatting along, that tiny spring in their steps, Benedict knows is in his too. 

They fill up the sidewalk, obviously waiting for James to come out. 

Benedict pulls the cap further down, taking another step back into the shadows. 

"I'm not sure that's helping, everyone and their granny knows that damn cap by now," comes from his side and he almost jumps out of his skin. 

A hand over his racing heart, he turns towards the owner of the voice: Alex leans casually against the wall at the other side of the narrow alley, smirking at him. 

"And the glasses don't cut it either," he adds calmly, "although I have to admit, they're hot." 

Benedict stares at him, speechless. 

Before he can think of anything to say, Alex drops his cigarette and crushes it with his heel. 

"Come on, James told me to fetch you. There's a cab waiting for us." 

Without awaiting an answer he strolls down the street towards the black car, standing only a few paces away and slips inside, leaving the door open. 

Benedict feels his blood boil at the audacity of the man but as he looks over to the entrance he sees James coming out, laughing with a few fans. He casts a quick glance over the street and meets Benedict's eyes. He frowns, his gaze darting down the street, to the cab and back, and Benedict can read all he needs to know on his face. 

Sighing he walks towards the cab and climbs in, trying to ignore the cheeky smile on Alex's face. 

Only moments later James hops in as well, slamming the door shut and gives the cabbie an address. He slumps into his seat and beams at Benedict and Alex, the post gig high making his eyes sparkle brightly. 

"I love it when a plan comes together," he laughs, rubbing his hands. 

He just then notices the glare Benedict shoots him. 

"What?" 

"'Fetch me'?" 

His voice is dripping with irony as he grits the words out between his teeth. 

"Really? You could've just told me where to meet and I could've gone there by myself," he grumbles, ignoring Alex's low cackles. 

James shrugs. 

"I could have done that but it's more fun like this." 

Benedict snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Glad I could provide the entertainment for the evening," he sneers, looking out of the window. A second later his head whips around and he fixates James with a hard look. 

"Speaking of evening. Wasn't it supposed to be just you and me?" he asks, glancing at Alex, "no offence." 

"None taken," Alex replies lightly. 

James only grins at him. 

"Yep but since I have a surprise for you, I thought this evening is as good as any." 

Benedict's ears perk up. 

"Surprise?" 

James elbows Alex in the side.

"See, told you he'd be less miffed. He loves surprises." 

Benedict forgets his anger and leans forward. 

"What is it? Tell me, come on." 

James shakes his head, the grin on his lips widens. 

"Not saying one bloody word until we're there." 

"Wait and see," oracles Alex. 

The rest of the short journey is spent with poking and prodding and banter and as they arrive at Benedict's favourite restaurant, the man is vibrating with anticipation. 

"Hold your horses, young man," James calls after Benedict who has jumped out of the cab, striding straight towards the door. He quickly pays and is by Benedict's side, taking his arm. 

"Alex, would you do the honours?" he asks overly politely. 

"With pleasure." 

Opening the door with flourish, he bows mockingly as James leads Benedict inside. 

As soon as he's inside the room erupts in loud cheers and it takes Benedict a second for his eyes to adjust to see that the restaurant is full of his friends, all standing and applauding wildly. 

James dramatically clears his throat and waits until it gets quieter again. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you: Benedict fucking Cumberbatch, bloody Emmy winner of 2014." 

Laughter and more applause fill the air, a turmoil of congratulations and hurrah calls. 

"They were all so sad that you couldn't be there," James says, beaming widely at him, "and that you couldn't party like you should have. So..." 

With that he shoves something heavy in Benedict's hands, and he almost drops it. Closing his fingers around the spiky object, he carefully lifts it and looks at it. 

"How?" he asks stupidly, inspecting the Emmy from all sides. 

"Don't ask," Alex chimes in, "he almost went bonkers with this." 

James swats him and he ducks away, laughing. 

"I'll tell ya later," he says to Benedict before he steps aside. 

"Anyhow. Congratulations, man, you deserve it," James says softly and hugs him tightly. 

"And now," he grins, pushing Benedict through the people towards a small pedestal to the side of the room, "speech time. Oh, and Ben? Don't be boring." 

He almost doubles over with laughter at that remark, and Benedict stumbles up the two steps, still in a daze. He looks down into the familiar faces, even his parents are there, bursting with pride; his mum is wiping her eyes as he clears his throat, thinking of what he wants to say. 

His gaze falls on James who leans against the wall, his face the perfect image of a cat that successfully learned how to open cans. 

"Thank you," Benedict mouths at him and James declines his head, smiling gently. 

*

After what seems like hours of shaking hands, lots of hugging and thanking everyone for coming, he finds himself alone in the garden of the restaurant, with his Emmy on the table in front of him, enjoying a few moments of peace and quiet. 

"Well deserved," he hears and as he looks up,  Alex leans in the doorway, nodding towards the statue, "pretty sure that's only the first of many more to come." 

Pushing away from the door, he slowly walks over, a gentle smile on his lips. 

"May I?" he asks as he reaches the table, motioning towards the award. 

Benedict nods and Alex takes it, turning it over in his hands, squinting to read the name plate. 

"And they even got your name right," he murmurs as he carefully sets it back down and crouches on the edge of the table, lighting a cigarette. 

Wordlessly he offers the packet to Benedict who accepts; they smoke silently for a while. 

Benedict watches him through half closed lids. 

The man is an enigma to him. He's a close friend of James' and yet Benedict hadn't met him until a few weeks ago at that dreadful party. He's openly gay, doesn't hide it - not that it bothers Benedict, he's got many gay friends. Neither has he a problem with the man hitting on him at every possible opportunity; he's used to that from any gender over the past years. 

What irks him is  how he reacts to him. He's only met him a few times, and yet he's thinking about him quite a lot. 

On one hand he finds his overly carefree attitude obnoxious, on the other hand he's quite charming and Benedict realises that he's not immune to that. 

The man has an effect on him, and he can't for the life of him figure out why. His cheeky compliments make him feel like a schoolboy, as if he's never been complimented before, his extraordinary eyes fascinate him more than he would care to admit and as much as he doesn't want to be around him, his heart always stutters when Alex appears unannounced at a party or a night out. 

And it drives him crazy. 

"Who the hell are you?" he blurts out, instantly regretting it as Alex looks at him, a little surprised. 

"I'm Alex," he quips, raising a sarcastic eyebrow at Benedict but becomes earnest as he sees the deep scowl on the other man's face. He stubs his cigarette out and smiles warmly. 

"James and I have known each other for a long time," he says, "we used to work together back in the day when we both still had a nine to five job." 

He scans Benedict's face and sighs. 

"Look, James told me, you're always a bit wary around new people, which is totally understandable. But do you really think he would let me anywhere near you if he thought I was an arse?" 

Benedict can't help but grin at that. 

"You never know with him," he mutters, making Alex snicker. 

"Well, you're his friend too," he deadpans dryly and they both laugh. 

"He adores you," Alex says softly, "he would never let you run into an open knife, you know? He only brought me because he knows me, knows I can behave if I have to. And I ..." he stops and bites his lip. 

There's a brief moment of consideration on his face and just as Benedict wants to ask, Alex leans forward a bit. 

"Do you remember him talking about that friend who smuggled an iPod into a closed ward? The one who got him hooked on classical music again?" 

Benedict nods, and then his eyes widen as he fully grasps it. 

"That was you?" 

"Yes." 

All the smugness, the cocky behaviour is gone, stripped off and for a second Benedict gets a glimpse at the man underneath, vulnerable and fiercely protective of the ones he loves. 

He swallows around a sudden lump in his throat. 

"You saved his life." 

Alex scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. 

"I doubt that was the only reason. It definitely helped him find his feet again." 

"He can be glad that he's got you." 

They fall silent for a while, each in their own thoughts. 

Benedict is the one who breaks it, trying to lighten the mood. 

"So, what are you doing for a living then? You said, you've worked with James but that's ages ago? How come I've never met you when you two have known each other for so long already?" 

Alex leans back, thinking. 

"I quit. I needed to get out, the job was eating me alive, the city felt too small for me, I couldn't breathe properly. Plus I had personal issues I needed to deal with. I traveled. Europe, The States, worked where a hand was needed, never stayed long in the same place. Restless, you see, always on the move. Took me three years to come back. I reckon, one has to be away from the thing one loves to realise its worth. Well, I had no job, didn't have a place to stay so James let me crash at his place for a bit. And then he hinted that his new label might need someone... how did he call it? Versatile! That was the word he used. If I’d learned anything in that time away then it was that. Organising, improvising, hell, magic up shit out of thin air, I can do all that. I went to interview and the rest is, as they say, history. Now I've got an office again but I'm barely there, I get a really good pay and a diverse range of things to do. It's never boring. It's the best thing that could've happened to me. I owe James a lot." 

Benedict eyes him long and then asks: 

"Are you always that straight forward?"

"Only with famous people I need to convince that I'm a good person to be around," Alex shoots back, smirking at him before he becomes serious again. 

"Look, what I wanted to say is that I'm actually a really nice person. Once you get to know me, that is." 

The last comes out a bit hesitant and Alex even looks a bit sheepish as he adds: 

"Would you like to get to know me, Benedict?" 

The answer comes without hesitation. 

"Yes." 

*

It's late when Benedict stumbles into his flat - or early depending on how one looks at it. 

He's worn out, his cheeks hurt from all the smiling and his feet are burning but he's happy. 

The evening had been a wonderful one, James' surprise was the best gift he could've given him and he had thanked him over and over until the man  had finally slapped him over the head and demanded he'd stop. 

It also had been a lovely get together with friends he hadn't seen in a while, for which he was even more grateful. 

And he's not only seen old friends, but pretty certainly made a new one, a good one even. 

Alex and he had spent so much time outside that James, when he finally found them, had loudly complained and to everyone's glee dragged Benedict to one end of the room and forbade Alex to come near them for at least an hour. 

It had been lovely indeed. 

Still gently smiling, he puts his Emmy on the table, admiring it a little. His mum had already claimed custody but he fought her and had won the right to keep it at least for a few days. 

As with all his awards it will eventually end up in his parents place but for now it's his alone. 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

He pulls his cap further into his face and quickly weaves through the people around him, trying to avoid eye-contact with anyone. 

For the millionth time he wonders why he's even out here - he's bound to be recognised, especially with such a large crowd around. 

As much as he loves his work and the growing success, some days he wishes he'd still be the unknown actor from back in the days, able to leave the house without having to disguise himself. 

Murmuring apologies as he pushes further through the crowd, he just hopes he can have this one evening out with friends, enjoying the gig without having to pose for photos or even worse, being shot sneakily. He hates that even more than not being able to go out like he used to. 

A muttered "finally" startles him and as he looks up and into Alex's face, he grins relieved. 

"Thought you'd be late again," he says, hugging him briefly before he pulls him aside, instinctively blocking the view of him. 

"I  _am_ late," Benedict says, frowning at his watch. 

"Nope, I just told you a wrong time. You're late for that but just in time for the real thing. I do that with my friends all the time, they just can't be on time so I started to tell them to be there half an hour earlier just to make them show up just on time. Works like a charm." 

Benedict glares at him. 

"Sneaky bastard," he mutters but then he gets sidetracked by a few other of his friends arriving with a big hello. Thankfully nobody is really paying attention to their group. They linger around until the doors to the venue eventually open, letting the people around them push and pull them with them until they end up somewhere in the middle of the floor, his friends automatically tucking him in the middle, hiding him from view. 

They don't even realise they're doing it - it’s happened gradually over the past years. With his growing popularity it became harder for him to just have an evening out with his friends and at first he had refused their invitations in fear of ruining the evening. But they hadn't let him, they’d  showed up at his door and had dragged him with them. And they do almost anything to make sure he goes unrecognised and he loves them fiercely for it. 

As soon as the lights fade, Benedict feels better and pushing his cap out of his face, he relaxes, letting the first notes of the intro song wash over him. 

Quickly he loses himself in the music; it's one of his favourite bands and he enjoys it immensely to see them live. 

Ignoring everything around him, he concentrates on the music, letting it wash over him, fill every cell of his body. The beat of the drums, the enchanting melodies, the words of the songs, it all helps him to forget anything around him and get utterly lost.

He sings along, cheers loudly when one song ends and feels the skittering of anticipation before the next one starts. Every once in a while he has a quick look around, beaming at the fun he can see on his friends faces. 

It's over way too soon and as the lights go back on, he blinks helplessly, needing a moment to come back to himself again. 

"God, I love their lyrics, Guy's such a genius," he hears someone saying, and he can't help the wide grin on his face. He remembers using the exact same words a while back, and he nods approvingly. 

"They're fantastic, aren't they?" 

Alex low voice right next to his ear catches him off guard and he stumbles back. Quick hands close around his flailing wrists, steadying him. 

"Woah, careful there." 

"Thanks. Yeah, they're incredible. Happy to see I'm not the only one seeing that," Benedict says, the smile still firmly attached to his face. 

"Hm, yes. Always loved their music and try to catch them live as much as possible." 

Benedict nods enthusiastically, the high from a wonderful gig still surging through his body. Alex smiles knowingly and listens attentively to his happy rambles while the crowd around them slowly pushes them towards the exit. 

"God Lord, is that-?" 

He barely hears the words but he sees how the expression on Alex face suddenly closes up as he whirls around, snarling at a woman, staring at them. 

"No, it's not, go away." 

He drags Benedict with him as he hurries towards the exit, never letting go of Benedict's sleeves. As soon as they make it outside, his head swivels about, trying to locate any of their friends. 

"We should get going. Quickly," he grumbles, pulling Benedict over to where he's spotted Adam, "people are getting nosy." 

"Oh fuck," the man groans, his eyes narrowing as he looks around, "Gina and Tom are still inside. You know what? You two go, we'll catch up. Drinks at the usual place?" 

Benedict nods hazily and motions Alex to follow him. They coil quickly through the people until they reach a small side street.

"Only a few minutes to walk. Come on, the others will catch up." 

They walk down the thankfully quiet street, Benedict's mood sinking with every step. 

It had been such a lovely evening and now he's running once again. 

He sighs loudly. 

"Why are you doing it then?" 

Alex voice is quiet yet urgent. 

"Doing what?" Benedict asks back, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. 

"Everything," he waves a hand back, shrugging, "I mean, the going out when you don't want to be  recognised. All this must be annoying for you." 

Benedict thinks about it for a moment, their steps on the pavement the only sound. 

"I can't hide in my flat forever. I love what I do," he eventually says, carefully considering his words, "I love to tell stories, bring people to life who have never lived or portray those who have. I love that I can excite people for something I care about. I love getting up in the middle of the night for a job or coming home after endless hours on set, exhausted but knowing I've done my best. Normally it doesn't bother me, it comes with the job, and mostly people are very considerate, leaving me alone when I ask them to. I...," 

He stops, searching for the right words. 

"But sometimes you wish you could be ordinary again?" Alex suggests softly. 

"Yeah, I guess. Being able to go out the door like anyone else, not having to be on edge all the time and not having to disguise myself. It never actually works anyway, so why do I even bother?" 

He sounds bitter and he hates it. 

"Blimey, I'm sorry, didn't mean to sound so whiney. As I said, I love my job." 

Forcing a smile on his face, he glances over. Alex shakes his head. 

"Of course you do. A blind person could see that. But it's only human when you want some privacy every now and then." 

Benedict nods again, kicking a loose stone over the walkway. 

"That would be nice." 

Silently they continue their way, each lost in their own thoughts until they reach a pub, buzzing with life. 

"Uh, are you sure about this?" Alex asks, eyeing the people chatting away outside the door, "that's probably not what you need right now." 

Benedict smiles. 

"Well, this, my friend, is something else entirely. These folks have known me since I was old enough to legally buy a drink. Most of them are regulars, coming here often, catching up with one another after work. For them I'm still that lanky boy that can't hold his liquor." 

Alex laughs, a pleasant sound that soothes Benedict's frayed nerves and eases the tension in his shoulders. 

"Come on," he says, his smile getting wider as he claps Alex on the back, "let's see how many drinks we can have before the others make it here." 

*

Three it turns out. When Adam wanders in, their friends in tow, Benedict and Alex are already pleasantly buzzed and so deep in conversation they don't even notice the others until they fall onto the empty chairs next to them. 

"Really Cumberbatch?," Tom cackles, snatching Benedict's glass and emptying it, "after all those pretty pictures of you, cuddling that bush?" 

"Och shut up you or I’ll remind you of that day when..." 

Tom clasps his hand over Benedict's mouth, shaking his head wildly, while the rest of their  friends  dissolve into laughter. 

"Don't you dare go bringing that up again, I've just successfully suppressed that." 

They all laugh even more, only Alex looks a bit puzzled and Benedict starts to tell him the story of everybody's darling getting so pissed that he couldn't even remember his own name. 

They earn a few curious glances from the other guests but as predicted, they're left entirely alone; Benedict, Adam and Tom are greeted with a grin from the owner who personally takes their orders, and every now and then, he wanders past, dropping a treat on their table - a plate of freshly baked biscuits "with love from the kitchen" and a round of a bitter tasting liqueur which is cheered upon by the lively round at the table. 

Even as he rings the last round and the pub gradually empties, none of the guests have a second look at them, not even as they clear out, with lots of banter and loud laughter, being reminded by the owner to keep it quiet while they wait for their cab. 

Saying good-bye to each other, all but Alex and Benedict leave, the two of them waving tipsily after the car until it vanishes around the corner. 

"So," Benedict exhales, "how do we get home? It's only a 20 minute walk. At least to my place. Or would you rather a cab?" 

Alex looks up into the sky, pondering and then he shakes his head. 

"Nah, a little walk is just what the doctor ordered to clear the head." 

Benedict leans closer, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I'm not a doctor, I'm a detective," he mutters conspiratorially, making them both burst into laughter. 

"Come on then, Mr. Detective, let's have a walk home then," Alex wheezes and starts towards the street. 

"I don't want to interrupt there, but you're walking in the wrong direction." 

Alex stops dead mid step and looks around, giggling before he stumbles back towards Benedict who can't stop laughing. 

"I might need you to lead me," Alex says, batting his eyelashes at him.

"Lucky you, I've got an excellent sense of direction," Benedict grins, holding out his hand. 

As Alex instinctively lays his hand in it, they both freeze. 

Suddenly everything is overly sharp and clear; Benedict can see how Alex's eyes widen as they flicker between their joined hands and his face back and forth, feels the cool air brush over his sweaty neck, making him shiver. 

And he smells the other man, harsh and tangy, and for a second the urge to bury his nose in the man's neck is overwhelmingly strong. 

They stand there, rooted to the spot, neither of them knowing what to do. 

The horn of a car that drives by, makes them jump. Their hands slip apart and Benedict clears his throat. 

"Shall we?" he asks, suddenly feeling very sober. 

Alex nods curtly and wordlessly they start walking down the street. 

It's a lovely night, cool but not too chilly, and despite the awkward silence between them, Benedict starts to enjoy the walk. Only them, barely any people on the streets anymore and for the second time today, he feels like himself again, feels safe. 

As they pass one of the many entries to the large park near his flat, he doesn't think twice and walks inside, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to see whether Alex is following him. 

He stands on the path, leading through the wide plains of the park, head tilted to the side, a questioning look on his face. 

"That's not the way to your flat," he says. 

"I know. Come on, I want to show you something," Benedict says quietly, turning around and wandering down the dimly lit way, careful as to where to set his feet. 

There are only a few lights, casting long shadows over the way but he knows this place by heart and keeps walking. 

After a moment he hears steps on the gravel behind him and he smiles. 

Miraculously Alex is still following him until Benedict stops at the highest point of the slowly ascending terrain, making a small motion towards the horizon. 

His smile widens as he hears the soft gasp and he glances over to the other man, whose jaw has dropped at the view. 

Like a row of diamonds London is blinking up at them, bright and sparkling in the dark, the majestic skyline shimmering colourfully into the night around them. 

"Wow," Alex murmurs, "I've never seen her like this." 

"Beautiful, isn't she?" 

"That she is." 

Alex murmurs something Benedict doesn't catch and he steps a bit closer, making a questioning sound. 

"Nothing," Alex mutters, and Benedict is almost sure he sees he man blushing. 

He pokes him gently in the side, making him squirm. 

"Come on, tell me," he insists softly, the awkwardness from earlier completely forgotten.

Alex clears his throat before he visibly squares his shoulders and looks up. 

"Just like you," he says, clenching his jaw. 

"Huh?" Benedict is lost. 

"I said, she's just as beautiful as you." 

Benedict stares at the other man, the words only slowly registering with his alcohol muddled brain. 

But when he finally understands, his stomach churns and he feels his face heating up. 

Normally when he gets compliments like this, he brushes them off even though he's flattered by them. He just doesn't see it but he also knows that he can't change the perception of others on him. 

But hearing something like this from Alex ignites an onslaught of emotions in him that he doesn't understand. 

"Uh, thanks," he mumbles, averting his eyes. 

Alex is still watching him, eyes narrowed to see him in the darkness. 

"Can I ask you something?" he says after a moment, taking a hesitant step closer. 

Benedict nods, helplessly frozen to the very spot he's standing. 

"If I were to touch you, would you let me?" 

Alex voice has dropped to a whisper but the intensity of the words chase something hot through Benedict's veins. 

He's always been very touchy feely, never shy of giving and receiving hugs; he craves physical contact and everyone knows it. Even his fans know that which sometimes puts him into awkward situations when they ask for a hug. 

But he’s never felt anything like he feels in this very moment: a nervous flutter in his stomach, the blood rushing loudly in his ears and his hands starting to shake. 

"And if I were to even go a step further and do this," Alex whispers, carefully taking Benedict's numb hands in his, "would you hit me?" 

He's shaking his head even before he notices that he's doing it, his throat closing up as Alex's fingers close around his, taking one last step to come to stand right before him, their noses almost touching. 

"I wonder," he murmurs lowly, the words barely audible, "what you’d do if I do this." 

Tightening his hold on Benedict's hand, he leans in and places a delicate kiss on Benedict's trembling lips. 

The world stands still - everything stops for one, two, three heartbeats before it snaps back into place with force. 

Benedict stares at the other man, breath coming in harsh gasps, his lips tingling from the softest of touches. 

"What will you do now?" Alex asks hoarsely, his voice breaking at the end, his pupils wide even in the darkness around them. 

Benedict swallows around the lump in his throat. He feels helpless, doesn't know what to do, his mind is racing and blank at the same time. 

And just as Alex lets go of his hand, something incredibly dark flitting over his handsome face, Benedict moves. 

He isn't thinking, just letting his body take over as he leans forward, kissing Alex's warm lips, mirroring his exact motions from only moments before and then pulls back, waiting with baited breath and a pounding heart. 

After what seems like an eternity, Alex smiles. Not wide, only a tremble of his lips, a shimmer in his eyes but it's all Benedict needs to be able to breathe freely again. 

"Are you sure you meant to do that?" Alex asks quietly despite the hopeful expression on his face. 

Benedict thinks about this for a moment and then nods. 

"I think I am, yes," he croaks, and just as he says it, he knows it is true. 

The man right in front of him, with the shaggy blond hair and the oddly coloured eyes and the crooked smile, has stirred something dormant inside him he didn't know was there. 

He's sure, he's going to have to have a good think about it: about maybe, possibly, pretty certainly having feelings for a man but he also knows that it's something he can deal with much later. 

Right now all he wants is to kiss those soft lips, learn their shape, feel their touch and get lost in the simple sensation of being kissed. 

"No sexual crisis then?" Alex's hands squeeze his, tearing him out of his thoughts. 

Benedict shakes his head, hesitantly twining his fingers with Alex's, the touch sending a thrill down his spine. 

"No," he murmurs, touching his nose against Alex's, sighing softly at the feeling, "not really." 

"But you're not gay," Alex mutters even though he closes the last bit of space between them, pressing his chest against Benedict's, who shrugs. 

"Probably not. Never actually thought about it. But I'm pretty certainly bi. Although I might have to explore that closer to be absolutely sure." 

He didn't even intend for it to sound like an innuendo, only Alex's quiet groans alerts him to the fact that his words may be a tad ambiguous. 

"Christ, don't say things like that," he moans, a shudder running through his body. 

"Oh," Benedict gasps, blushing as he feels Alex's thigh slide between his, "I didn't mean-" 

"I know but it sounded incredibly sexy. Can... do you think I can help with that?" 

Instead of an answer Benedict leans in and kisses him, a jolt of excitement shooting through his veins as their lips touch again, less hesitant this time. 

Alex groans, low in his throat, and Benedict's heart stutters at the sound. 

He trembles as he feels Alex tongue against his lips, coaxing his mouth carefully open. Angling his head, his lids flutter closed as he gives himself over, letting Alex take control of the kiss. 

His lips are soft and eager, his tongue tender as it curls around Benedict's, caressing and exploring all the same, tasting him. He's moaning inaudibly, only the vibrations resonating against his torso are proof that he's making a sound at all. 

It's glorious and Benedict loses himself in the wet slide of their flesh, feeling his own moans rumble in his chest as he deepens the kiss, the world around him vanishing and everything narrows down to their kiss.

His skin is prickling, Alex's scent fills his nose and he wishes they would never stop. 

But just as that hazy thought whizzes through his brain, Alex pulls back, nipping on his lower lip one last time and leans back, stormy eyes scanning Benedict's face. 

"Bloody hell," he says breathlessly, licking his lip and laughing softly as Benedict moans at the sight, " -yeah, me too." 

They stand there, fingers still tightly curled around each other's hands, eyes locked in the dim lights of the stars, drinking in the sight of one another. 

"We should go home," Alex eventually suggests, shaking his head as he sees Benedict's eyes widen. 

"Each to their own home," he clarifies, "even though the thought has something very appealing." 

His eyes narrow and slide hungrily over Benedict's body. 

"Another time though. For now we should take it slowly," he adds, squeezing Benedict's hands and hesitantly letting go. 

"We're both not entirely sober and we need some sleep." 

Nodding Benedict stuffs his shaking hands in his pockets and waits for Alex to start walking again; they fall into step next to each other, wordlessly, and it only takes a few minutes until they have reached Benedict's flat. 

"Can I call you tomorrow?" Alex asks unusually shy as Benedict fumbles for his keys. 

"I'd be offended if you didn't," he says, finding the comfortable teasing vibe between them again. 

"Well, I wouldn't dare offend you," Alex smiles, tilting his head. 

"As long as you get in touch." 

Benedict sounds wistful but he doesn't care. 

"I will," Alex says quietly, reaching out a hand before he shakes his head and drops it again, "... good night." 

Benedict casts a hasty look around the empty street before he leans in and kisses Alex quickly on the mouth. 

"Good night," he mumbles, blushing heavily. He whirls around and is inside the house in a heartbeat, leaning against the closed door. Perking his ears he hears a huffed laugh and then footsteps, vanishing into the night. 

His legs give out and he slides down the door until he comes to sit on the floor. He raises a hand to touch his tingling lips, a serene smile dancing over his face. 

*

The shrill ring of his doorbell tears him out of his dreams. Cursing wildly, he stumbles towards the door, still half asleep. 

"Oh shit, I didn't mean to wake you," Alex says reproachfully as he opens the door, squinting into the hallway. 

Benedict's brain's still sleep addled but the sight of the other man has him wide awake within seconds. 

"Uh, nah, it's late anyways, I guess... uhm, want to come in?" he stammers after a moment of stunned silence. 

"Only if that's okay. I can come back later if it's..." 

Benedict shakes his head, stepping aside to let him in. 

"It's fine," he mutters sheepishly, "just... give me a second." 

He motions for Alex to wait in the sitting room and dodges back into his bedroom. Groaning he leans against the door for a second, his thoughts a jumbled mess. 

Trying to ignore that he grabs a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt and slips them on. He sprints into the bathroom, wincing as he sees his face in the mirror: his hair's a right mess and there are dark shadows under his eyes. Splashing water in his face and on his disheveled curls he tries his best to look decent before he gives up and brushes his teeth. 

Taking a deep breath he straightens his shirt and steps back out into the hallway from where he can see Alex wandering around in his sitting room. 

Steeling himself he walks in, avoiding looking at the man. 

"Coffee?" he asks, already on his way towards the kitchen. 

"Sure, I never say no to that." 

Benedict is nervous as he fumbles through the routine of making coffee, his hands shaking so hard that he almost drops a mug. 

'Get yourself together' he scolds himself and then he jumps - literally - as a hand lowers down on his shoulder. 

"Would you look at me for a second?" Alex asks gently, "or are you too terrified?" 

Mutely Benedict shakes his head, slowly turning around, his gaze hesitantly wandering from Alex's feet up until they find the other man's eyes, watching him calmly. 

"Hi." 

"Hi."

"Listen, if this is too much for you, or too early, I can leave and -" 

"No!" 

The protest is out even before Benedict notices it. The thought of Alex leaving makes his stomach drop and a cold knot form in his heart. 

"Don't go. I-" 

"You just need a bit to adjust? Cause if that's the only thing, I'd be delighted to help with that." 

And before Benedict can say or do anything, Alex's hands frame his face, his eyes flickering over his lips before they lock with Benedict's. He waits a heartbeat and as Benedict isn't withdrawing, he smiles softly. 

"Good morning," he murmurs and kisses him briefly. Just a brush of lips, dry and innocent but the touch sends sparks down Benedict's spine and he feels the tension leaving his shoulders. 

"That's better," Alex says, running a thumb over Benedict's eyebrow, "god, you're gorgeous in the  morning, all messy and -" 

Benedict feels a deep flush heating up his cheeks and he looks down, nervously running a hand through his hair.

"Could you wait until I've had my coffee?" Benedict mutters, "I... uh, I'm not a morning person." 

Alex chuckles understandingly and lets go. 

"Yeah, I can see that. Coffee first. Do you need help?" 

Benedict shakes his head and Alex wanders back in the sitting room, giving Benedict the space he needs. 

"Oh, you've got a terrace?" he hears and as he carries two mugs into the room, Alex is standing on his balcony, face turned toward the blue sky. He's making little happy noises as the sun comes up from behind the clouds, and Benedict stops dead in his tracks. 

He takes in the sight of the man: his relaxed posture, self confident and secure, his broad shoulders under the shirt, the ends of his too long blond hair moving gently in a random breeze. 

Every single thought he’s had since he first met the man crushes down on him, every emotion he’s subconsciously suppressed floods his brain, and he almost drops the mugs. 

Stumbling over to the table he sets them down and collapses down on the sofa, panting heavily, his vision suddenly blurry. 

He barely feels the pair of strong hands on his back, pushing his head down between his knees and the voice, muffled through the loud rush of blood in his ears, that tells him to breathe. 

He obliges, taking deep, shuddery breaths until he feels in control again. 

"Having a panic attack there, hmm?" Alex says, flopping down next to him on the sofa, watching him closely. 

"Do people still have that?" Benedict tries to tease but his voice cracks. 

Alex chuckles. 

"I suppose so. Especially when they realise that they might not be as straight as they thought they were." 

Benedict snorts and leans back, trying to regain his composure. 

They sit in silence and it takes him a moment to notice that it's actually nice, not awkward or heavy, rather the opposite: it feels natural and easy. 

He casts a glance over to the other man, who's still watching him, the hint of a smile on his lips. 

"Feeling better?" he asks gently. 

"Yes, actually I do." 

"Good. Didn't want to have to slap you or something like that." 

The light tone relaxes Benedict even further. 

"No need to slap anyone," he grins weakly, slowly finding his footing around the man again.  

Alex cocks his head, and his eyes narrow. 

"Never say never," he mumbles, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Benedict blushes but at the same time his heartbeat speeds up as a series of images flickers trough his brain which leave him a bit breathless. 

"Gah," Alex groans, shifting away from him, "could you stop that? Seriously, how are YOU still blushing? You must have heard much more explicit things from your fans." 

The flush on Benedict's face deepens, nevertheless he lifts his head and searches the eyes of the other man. They're huge, pupils blown wide and Benedict can see his pulse hammering at the vein on his neck. 

"I have indeed," he replies, dropping his voice deliberately as he knows the effect it causes; and it never fails. Alex's lips part and he inhales harshly, shifting again. 

"But I've never actually considered what they suggest," he whispers, biting his lip, waiting, his heart beating heavily in his chest. 

It takes Alex a few seconds until he catches the real meaning of his words. His jaw drops and he makes an undignified sound before he launches himself at Benedict, pushing him deep into the cushions. 

This time there's no hesitation. 

Their lips find each other instantly. There's nothing innocent about their kiss, it's all teeth and tongue. It's messy and needy and uncoordinated. 

And it's perfect. 

Alex hands thread through Benedict's hair, pulling him closer while his body presses against him, heavy and assuring in a storm of emotions. 

Benedict moans lowly against his mouth, his fingers digging into Alex's shoulders, trying to stay grounded as he feels rather lightheaded. Alex's mouth is skilful, tongue and lips are hot against his, the soft moans he makes ringing in Benedict's ears. 

He feels all his blood rushing south and helplessly grinds against Alex's thigh between his legs, his body acting completely on instinct now. 

"Fuck," Alex groans, sucking Benedict's lower lip in his mouth and then pulls back, his dark gaze burning with a fire that has Benedict's cock stir some more in his jeans. 

Staring at each other, Benedict brushes a strand of hair out of the other man's face, the touch sending an electric shock through his veins. 

"Did I mention, that I only came over to make sure I didn't freak you out last night?" Alex mutters, lids fluttering as Benedict keeps caressing his face. 

"Do I look freaked out to you?," he asks, smiling a little as Alex moans softly as he starts outlining his ear. 

"Not a bloody bit," Alex replies roughly, pressing his head into Benedict's hand as he slides it in his hair. 

"Then stop worrying on my behalf." 

Benedict pulls him back down, sealing their lips together once more. He controls the kiss now, keeps it slow and takes his time to lick deep into the other man's mouth, moaning quietly as Alex's body melts against his. 

They keep kissing lazily, learning what makes the other one tick. 

Eventually they have to break it in order to breathe and Alex rests his head on Benedict's chest, his arms closing around him, their bodies fitting against each other perfectly. 

Silently they lay there in the sunshine coming in through the windows, wrapped up in each other's arms until Benedict breaks the silence. 

"Your coffee’s getting cold," he mutters, eliciting a delighted giggle from the other man. 

"If that's your only concern," he says and untangles himself, sitting up and grabbing a mug. 

"There." 

He raises the mug and takes a drink, his eyes sparkling happily over the rim of the mug. 

"Are you always this silly?" Benedict asks, heaving himself back into a sitting position, grumbling as his still hard cock rubs against the fly of his jeans. 

"Only after a really good snog," Alex shoots back. 

"I'll remember that," Benedict grins, shifting uncomfortably. 

Alex's smile fades as he notices the bulge in his jeans, and he swallows hard. 

"I could help with that, you know," he whispers, letting a finger graze over Benedict's thigh. 

Benedict gasps but shakes his head. 

"I'm a quick adjuster but I am not that quick. And if I remember correctly you said something about taking it slow." 

Alex nods, pulling his hand back. 

"I did say that, yes. Didn't know it would be that hard though." 

Benedict's eyes widen as he looks up, their gaze locks and then they burst out in laughter at the unintentional ambiguous wording. 

Alex scrambles to his feet, holding out a hand. 

"Come on you, I am starving. Let me take you out for breakfast." 

"Out?" Benedict asks warily, the laughter dying away, "do you think that's a good idea?" 

Alex frowns.

"Yes, of course. Why not? Just two friends having breakfast together." 

Deep creases form in Benedict's forehead as he hesitantly stands. 

Alex sighs and takes his hands, squeezing them gently. 

"Listen, I know this is all new for you. Believe me, I've been where you are right now. You're confused, terrified even, and you will more than once doubt that you’ve made the right choice. But," he lifts a hand to stop Benedict from protesting, "but if you want to give this, give us, a chance, please do. I'm sure it won't be easy and you might regret it at some point but please don't nip it in the bud. That was one reason I came over and didn't just call. I wanted to see how you'd react, wanted to make sure it wasn't just a drunken mishap." 

Benedict shakes his head wildly. 

"It wasn't," he says, "it really wasn't." 

"Good. Cause if that was the case, just tell me and we can go back to where we were." 

"I don't want that. I want..." Benedict hesitates and then suddenly looks up, his eyes boring into Alex's, "I want you." 

Alex exhales, his shoulders sagging in relief and he drops a quick kiss on Benedict's lips. 

"It's just-," Benedict continues, struggling with the words. 

"You just need to get used to the fact of being with a bloke?" Alex suggests, his eyes widening in surprise as Benedict slowly shakes his head. 

"That's not it. I don't care about labels..." 

"Perhaps not but it's a huge step to admit out loud that you're gay, or bi, or whatever," Alex interrupts, "especially in your case. The eyes of the entire world will be on you. It's something I can't even imagine. Coming out to my friends was terrifying enough. Thankfully they suspected it way before I myself realised it so there's that. You though, you never even entertained the thought of being with a man, did you?" 

"Actually, I have thought about it," Benedict admits, "comes with the job, I guess." 

"Well, we can work with that. But it's something entirely different to think about it or to act upon it. So until we come to that point, we are taking it slowly." 

Benedict nods absently and Alex ducks down, searching his eyes.

"What is it? There's something else, isn't there?" he asks. 

"I just don't want to be chased by every bloody gossip site on this planet," Benedict blurts out, an exhausted line around his mouth.

"It's not that I care about coming out, I just don't want you to be their target. You know how it is on normal nights out. Imagine those damn bloodhounds if they get wind that we're together." 

There's a tiny smile dancing over Alex's face at the last word and Benedict can't help but return it, his heart stuttering a little. 

"I don't want to do that to you, you know," he says tenderly, twining his fingers with Alex's, "I would hate myself for putting you out there as a target." 

"You're the most caring human being I know," Alex says, clearing his throat, "but I think I can deal with them." 

Benedict shakes his head, feeling very tired all of a sudden. 

"No Alex, you don't know what they're capable of. If they only suspect the slightest thing, they'll hunt you down, wait at your door and won't leave until they get what they came for. They'll make your life a living hell and I cannot allow that." 

Alex watches him with an expression Benedict can't read, something between utter awe and surprised shock. Then he laughs quietly, pulling Benedict into a hug. 

"Remember what I do for a living: dodging paparazzi and press should be one of my easiest tasks." 

He leans back, searching Benedict's eyes and smiles reassuringly. 

"But I know what you mean. We can keep it a secret if that's what you want. I'm cool with that. I mean, we've been papped together quite often by now, so we can still go out together - just friends having a good time. I promise to keep my hands to myself." 

Benedict huffs a sarcastic laugh and Alex smacks him gently on the arm. 

"Hush you, I can behave myself if I have to. And I promise you this: anything I can do to make it easier for you, I will do. I like you. A lot. And to be honest, the more I can have you to myself, the better."  

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, grinning widely now. 

Ignoring the flush creeping up his neck, Benedict feels a mirroring grin bloom on his lips and then he nods. 

Straightening his back, Alex looks him deep in the eyes. 

"Well then, Mr. Cumberbatch, now that that is cleared, would you do me the honours and have breakfast with me?" 

"It'll be my pleasure, Mr. Ewans." 

"You better get that hair of yours under control though," Alex teases, running a hand through Benedict's disheveled curls, placing a soft kiss on his nose. 

Benedict snickers. 

"Well, I got woken in the middle of the night by an insane and irresistible man." 

"Uh, irresistible, eh?" 

Benedict nods, swallowing as he sees Alex's eyes darken again. 

"Go, now, or I can't guarantee we’ll make it out of the flat at all," he growls, pushing Benedict away. 

Chuckling happily he makes his way to the shower. 

There are still a lot of things to talk about and to consider if they want to keep their relationship a secret as long as possible. But that can wait. For now he's going to have breakfast. With Alex. Anything else doesn't matter. 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Benedict stumbles into his flat, dropping his suitcase in the hallway and shuffling to the sofa where he collapses. He sighs deeply, glad he doesn't have to move anymore. 

The flight was horrible, security took their bloody time and on top of it all, the paparazzi were out in force tonight, blinding him with their flashes as he left the airport. 

All he wants is to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Just as he musters up the strength to get up again, his phone buzzes. 

Fumbling it out of his pocket, he glances at the screen. And smiles. 

No matter how tired he is, when that name flashes on the screen, his world becomes a bit brighter. 

Slumping back into the sofa, he answers the call. 

"Hey." 

"Hi. Welcome home. How was your flight?" 

"Horrible. Absolutely awful. Hellish at its best." 

The low laugh at the other end chases a shiver down Benedict's spine and he bites back a groan. 

"The usual then." 

He hums, feeling a little less tired only hearing Alex's voice. 

"Want me to come over for a proper welcome or are you headed straight to bed?" 

Benedict suppresses a yawn. 

"As tempting as that sounds, I'd be asleep before you're even out your door," he says. 

He can almost see Alex raising his eyebrow. 

"I am very quick as you know," he chuckles, "what was the fastest? Eight minutes?" 

"Seven," Benedict replies automatically, grinning at the memory. 

"See, you can't even shower in seven minutes. I could join you..." he lets the sentences hang in the air. 

Benedict moans quietly; the idea does have it perks. But he knows better. 

"Let me get at least a full night's sleep. I'd be of no use to you right now," he says regretfully. 

"As long as I can use you," Alex teases, his voice dropping lower and despite his utter exhaustion, Benedict feels his trousers tighten a bit. 

"Keep talking and I just might change my mind," he mutters, adjusting himself. 

"Oh, we're doing phone sex now? Naughty Mr. Cumberbatch, naughty." 

Benedict laughs; Alex never fails to make him laugh, no matter how worn out or aggravated he is. 

"No, we're not," he replies firmly, heaving himself off the sofa and walking towards the bathroom, "I am going to have a shower and then go to bed. Alone. And I will turn off the phone and the doorbell and sleep at least 12 hours." 

Kicking off his shoes he almost falls over as he tries to get rid of his socks with one hand, the other one clutching the phone. He stumbles and crashes against the wall.

"Are you trying to undress without putting the phone away?" Alex asks dryly. 

"No," he lies, biting back a grin at the theatrical sigh on the other end. 

"Put the phone down and get into bed," he commands, groaning at his own words, "gosh, I can't believe I just said that. I wished I was there. You're so cute when you're all sleep deprived." 

Alex sighs longingly, and for a second Benedict is tempted to just tell him to come over. It's been almost two months since they've seen each other. Phone calls, skype chats and texts just don't make up for the fact that he wants nothing more than to see Alex, touch him, kiss him. He misses him so much it hurts. 

"Tomorrow. As soon as I'm coherent again," he murmurs, his yearning clearly audible in his voice. 

"And not a second later," Alex replies, the same tone in his words. 

They fall silent for a second, content to hear each other breathe and know they're finally in the same city again. 

"I'm so glad you're back," Alex whispers, "I can't wait to see you again." 

Benedict's throat closes up and his vision gets a bit blurry.  

"Me too." 

"Go to bed. Call me when you're up and I'll be there in 6 minutes," Alex says roughly. 

"I will. Good night." 

"Good night." 

Benedict ends the call and tosses the phone on a drawer. Swaying tiredly he stands there for a few moments before he starts stripping off and steps into the shower. 

Ten minutes later he stumbles into his bedroom, barely managing to shut the blinds to keep the sun out in the morning before he falls face first on the bed. 

He's asleep within seconds, not even able to pull the covers over himself. 

*

He wakes to something tickling his face. Grumbling he buries his face in the pillow, not nearly as rested as he wants to be. Every single muscle in his body hurts and he feels as if he’s been run over by a truck. 

He's drifting off to sleep again as the tickle intensifies, now on his neck, more persistent. 

Swatting at it, his fingers meet warm skin and he hears a faint giggle. 

Willing his heavy lids open, his gaze falls on Alex, laying on the other half of the bed, watching him amused. 

"Morning Sunshine. Do you want to sleep the entire day?" 

Baffled, Benedict stares at him and he must look so utterly confused that Alex throws his head back and laughs heartily. 

"Your face is priceless," he says when he can breathe again, "but in case you're wondering whether I broke into your flat to watch you sleep, I didn't. You gave me a key to look after your plants, remember?" 

"No," Benedict croaks truthfully. He can't remember but then again, he's barely awake. 

Alex grins. 

"Well, you did. And since I didn't want to wait for you to _finally_ wake up, I thought I come over and wake you. I've brought breakfast. Well, probably tea now seeing that it's almost 3 in the afternoon." 

Groaning Benedict pulls the duvet over his head only to pull it back down a second later. 

"I was supposed to meet Tom at 4, fuck," he curses, struggling to push the covers off but Alex's hand on his shoulder holds him back. 

"Relax. I took the liberty of calling him and telling him that you didn't feel up to it just now. You sounded utterly wrecked last night so..." he shrugs, "thought it would be the best." 

"Oh. Thanks." 

With his brain slowly waking up, he falls back into the pillows, watching the other man, noticing the tiny differences that happened over the past two months. 

His hair is sun-bleached and a bit too long and the creases around his eyes are deeper than when he left for Columbia. But the smile is the same, open and charming, making his unusual eyes sparkle and Benedict feels the now familiar stutter of his heart, he always gets when he looks at him and realises that he's his.

Over the months away he realised that he's hopelessly in love with him. It happened gradually, almost imperceptibly,  and now he can't imagine being without him again. 

"Come with me next time," he blurts out, startling the other man. 

"What?" 

"Come with me. No, wait: become my PA. I need someone to take care of things,  organise my day, make sure I'm on time. Karon gave up on that a while ago and you can kick my ass like nobody else." 

Alex frowns at him. 

"You mean, work for you?" 

Benedict nods, the idea has been on his mind for a while but just now he realises how brilliant it is. 

"Yes, you are an amazing organiser, and even better, you can improvise like no-one I know, nothing can shock you. I need someone like you." 

He stops, swallows and then adds: 

"I need _you_. I know it's not ideal, we still wouldn't see each other that much but at least we could be together at the end of the day." 

He falls silent, biting his lip, waiting anxiously. He hasn’t really thought it entirely through, just let his heart take over for a second but the longer he thinks about it, the better the idea sounds. 

Understanding dawns on Alex's face. 

"For having just woken, you're pretty fucking clever, you know that?," he says, leaning in and planting a hard kiss on Benedict's lips. 

He moans lowly, the touch sending a shock through his entire body. It's been too long, he almost forgot how it feels to be kissed by Alex, slight stubble grazing against his chin, the warmth of his full lips, his scent, familiar and still new. 

Alex hums gently as he pulls back, his eyes narrowing as he registers Benedict's increasing breaths. 

"Oh," he mutters, shifting a bit closer and slips a hand under the duvet, roaming around until he connects with Benedict's stomach. His fingers sneak under the t-shirt and they both groan as he caresses sleep warm skin. 

"Hm, can we talk about that later? Right now I have other things on my mind," he says hoarsely, slowly but surely pushing the shirt up. 

"Do you now?" Benedict rasps, sighing softly as Alex starts pulling the duvet down, revealing Benedict's slender body. Alex leans back, his eyes hungrily sliding over him before he lets his hands follow. 

Benedict groans loudly as Alex pushes the shirt all the way over his head, struggling to do so. Eventually he manages and in one smooth motion strips his own, dropping it carelessly behind him. 

"I missed you so much," he murmurs as he starts running his fingers over Benedict's upper body, causing goosebumps all over his skin. 

In lieu of an answer, Benedict tangles his hand in Alex's blonde hair and pulls him flush against him, gasping as their skin touches. 

"I missed you too," he whispers and then pulls him into a searing kiss. 

He takes it slow, needing a moment to get used to the feeling again: Alex's soft lips, his taste, the slickness of his tongue as it slides inside his mouth, nudging his. 

He barely notices Alex's hands in his own hair, caressing the back of his head, his neck, his shoulders. 

"God, I've been dreaming about this for two months now," Alex mutters as he pulls back, looking him deep in the eyes, "kissing you again, touching you. Having had that before it felt as if a part of me was suddenly gone." 

Benedict moans at his words; he's felt the same. 

After spending the first weeks mostly at home, getting to know and exploring each other, it had been very lonely as he had left to shoot on the other side of the world. 

"I might have to keep you in bed for at least a week," Alex mutters, starting to kiss down Benedict's neck, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin, making him press into Alex's touch. 

"I won't object," he sighs, crying out as teeth scrape over his nipples, sucking them into the wet heat of Alex's mouth.

"Don't tempt me," is the low reply and then it's quiet for a while. 

Alex keeps taking Benedict apart bit by bit, kisses, licks and bites on what feels like every single patch of skin, ignoring Benedict's steadily increasing pleas. 

His pants have become quite tight and he feels himself leaking into the fabric - he's been hard since Alex first kissed him and now he's aching for a touch, anything to relieve the building pressure in his body. 

But Alex senses his desperation, keeps mouthing wet kisses over his stomach, his hip and then he slides down and starts plastering tiny pecks all over his feet and up his calves. 

Benedict's cursing wildly, his fingers tightly curled into the sheets, his hips moving of their own accord. 

A soft chuckle drifts to his ear and as he glances down, Alex's outrageously charming grin makes him swear a blue streak. 

"What is it, Ben? Want me to stop?" Alex asks cheekily, and only his ragged breath and the fact that he's rutting gently against the mattress, gives away how turned on he actually is. 

Benedict growls, reaches out with unsteady hands and hauls the man back up, kissing him feverishly. As he lets go, they're both panting and the grin has vanished from Alex's face. 

"Stop teasing and fuck me," Benedict groans, pressing his raging erection against Alex's own. Biting his lips, he waits. One heartbeat, two and then Alex's head snaps upwards, his wide eyes searching Benedict's. 

"What did you just say?" he asks, his voice so low it's barely audible. 

Benedict swallows hard but holds the eye contact. 

"You heard me."

Alex mouth is on his instantly, kissing him so fiercely it makes his blood boil and he moans loudly against his mouth. 

"Are you sure?" Alex asks quietly as he pulls back, his eyes burning with a fire that has Benedict's cock jump in anticipation. 

He only nods and without letting go of the other man, he reaches for the nightstand, clumsily grappling for the bottle in there. 

Alex's fingers slide around his and take it away, dropping it next to them on the bed. 

"You really want this?" he asks again, more insistent, knowing exactly how much of a big deal this is for them, for Benedict. 

"Yes," he murmurs, starting to open Alex's jeans, "been thinking about it a lot lately. I want it. I...," he swallows and blushes, then searching Alex's eyes again, "when I see your face when I take you, it's the most beautiful thing and I... I want to feel it too."

The sound Alex makes can't be described as human as he launches himself at Benedict, attacking his mouth, kissing him so hard that there will be bruises the next day. 

In a flurry of hands and lips and too long legs they manage to get rid of their remaining clothing. Alex pushes Benedict on his back, his knees gently nudging his legs apart. 

"If you want me to stop, tell me. If I hurt you, tell me. It might burn a bit but that goes away. If not, tell me," he whispers urgently, his voice chasing a hot shiver down Benedict's spine. 

"I will," he groans, "can you stop talking now?" 

"Pushy bastard," Alex mutters but kisses him again and then slides down his body, dropping kisses on his skin on his way. Settling between Benedict's thighs, he nuzzles the skin there, driving him mad with his gentle touch. 

"Alex," he whines, "please." 

Alex huffs a laugh and reaches blindly for the lube. 

"God, I love it when you beg." 

His voice suddenly drops and he looks up, his differently coloured eyes stormy and dark as he continues: 

"And I _will_ make you beg." 

The last is growled against Benedict's leaking cock and he yelps as Alex closes his lips around it and takes it all the way in.

Wet heat surrounds Benedict and his hands flutter about helplessly before they settle in Alex's hair; he doesn't push, just holds on, needing an anchor in the onslaught of sensations the man's tongue and lips cause in him. 

He barely notices when Alex pops open the lube and he only slightly flinches as one slick finger slides between his arsecheeks. Concentrating on his breathing, he forces himself to relax. Alex mouth is steadily sliding over his aching cock, distracting him efficiently as one finger starts pushing inside him. 

It does burn a bit, just as Alex had said but it's bearable and Alex's mouth is still doing spectacular things to his cock, keeping him just on that line between pleasure and pain. 

He starts to sweat, tossing his head on the pillow, his fingers digging into Alex's scalp but the man doesn't even flinch and keeps working his finger deeper into his body. 

After what seems like an eternity he adds a second one, making Benedict moan loudly and he stops instantly. Letting go of him, he looks up, a deep frown on his forehead. 

"Okay?" he asks, licking his lips. 

The sight is so sensual Benedict doesn't even answer, he only pushes down on Alex's fingers which accidentally graze his prostate. Benedict cries out, his back arching from the bed and Alex's hand slips out. 

"Don't...dare...stopping," Benedict grits out, his entire body vibrating with need. 

Alex groans lowly and pushes his fingers back in, sliding inside easily now. His other hand closes around Benedict's cock, starting a torturous up and down that drives him absolutely insane. 

He's writhing on the bed, feeling as if he's dissolving, babbling incoherently as Alex starts stretching him wider, still keeping his motions steady. For a second Benedict wonders how he can be so calm but as he blinks down and sees Alex's scrunched up face, the glistening on his forehead and the rapidly pounding pulse on his neck, he dismisses that thought. Alex is just as riled up as he, he just keeps it better together. 

"Condom," Alex grunts as he looks up, meeting Benedict's eyes. He gasps as he sees the undisguised longing in them and he reaches for the nightstand again, blindly grasping for the box in there. 

It's plucked from his grip before he can give it to Alex and then both hands leave his body and he whimpers helplessly. 

"Shhh, one second," Alex soothes, ripping open the condom and hisses as he quickly rolls it on, shuffling between Benedict's legs, pushing them further apart. 

He grabs a pillow and pushes it under his arse, lifting him up a bit. 

"I'll... try to be slow... bare with me...," he babbles as he carefully takes himself in hand, nudging against Benedict's opening. 

"Breathe for me," Alex whispers, locking his gaze with Benedict's and as he inhales deeply, Alex pushes inside, steady and slow. His dark eyes are on Benedict's face, searching for any sign of discomfort. 

It hurts but only a little and the more Benedict breathes, the easier it gets. 

A hand closes around his cock again, stroking him hard and fast and he gasps: again Alex knows exactly how to take his mind off the pain and make him feel the pleasure once more. 

"God, so bloody tight... so hot...," he hears through the loudly rushing blood in his ears and as he squints up, Alex is biting his lip, his eyes screwed shut, his hair a total mess. 

Benedict groans at the sight and Alex's lids flutter open just as he stops moving, buried all the way inside. 

"One second," he mumbles, leaning down to kiss Benedict softly, his breath coming in hectic gasps, "won't take long," he adds and then moves his hips. Only a little but the tip of his cock grazes Benedict's prostate again, making him clench hard around Alex. 

They both groan loudly, Alex's hands digging deep into Benedict's hips. 

"For fuck's sake, please move," Benedict whines, not caring how desperate he sounds. 

His entire body is trembling with need now, his skin feels too tight over his bones, every touch sends sparks of ecstasy through his nerves. 

Moaning lowly Alex starts thrusting, deep and slow at first but quickly builds up a rhythm as he notices how Benedict meets every single thrust without hesitation, rocking hard against him. His elegant fingers clasp viciously around Alex's sides, pulling him closer, deeper and then Alex abandons all care. 

He starts moving in earnest, hitting that bundle of nerves with every thrust. They're both quivering with desire, Benedict thrashing beneath him, his head pressed into the pillows, his back arching up, the strong muscles inside pulling him deeper and soon he feels the familiar tingle at the end of his spine. 

Bending down he changes the angle, thrusting sharp and hard; not long now, Benedict's stomach is slick with precome, his cock twitching against his own skin where it's pressed over his length. 

Looking down at Benedict, Alex whimpers. 

"Christ, you're so beautiful," he gasps between harsh intakes of breath. 

Benedict's lids flutter open and that's all Alex needs: looking into the thunderstorm that are his eyes at this very moment, swirls of green and blue and gold, glazed over and blind. Alex comes, pushing himself as deep as possible into the other man, losing himself in the feeling of his orgasm. 

He senses Benedict watching him and he forces his eyes open, looking down, still weakly thrusting into him. 

Slipping a shaky hand between their bodies, he closes his fingers around Benedict's twitching shaft and it only takes a few sharp tugs and the man comes undone. 

Loudly. A choked off scream, a stream of unintelligible sounds and then he collapses on the bed, boneless and panting, sweat soaking his hair, the vein on his neck pulsing wildly. 

Alex drinks in every tiny motion, every tremble, every single flutter on his face and for a second he's utterly helpless to the wave of emotion that crushes over him. 

Instead of saying what's on the tip of his tongue, he leans down and kisses Benedict gently, letting the words slip into the other man's mouth, unspoken for now. 

Benedict wraps a weak arm around him, pulling him closer and for a while they just keep kissing before Alex slips off him, quickly discards the condom and curls around his side, a hand over Benedict's heart. 

They lie in silence, the only sounds their breaths and the muffled sound of an occasional car going by outside. The sun filters through the blinds, filling the room with a diffused light and for a while nothing else is important other than the feeling of damp skin against their fingertips. 

*

The sun's setting when they finally make it out of bed, setting up camp on the balcony, devouring the food Alex had brought and then collapsing full and content on the big lounger. 

Benedict's limbs are heavy and sated as he curls around Alex's equally relaxed body, eyes closed and enjoying the last warm rays of the late summer evening. 

"Did you mean it?" Alex asks sleepily, humming contently at Benedict's hand sliding through his mussed hair.

"Hm?" 

"Me, working for you?" 

"Oh that. Yes, of course." 

Alex falls silent again, and Benedict knows he's thinking it over. He lets him - he's a rationalist, always seeing both sides of the medal, weighing in the pros and cons methodically. 

A few minutes later Alex stirs and Benedict regretfully lets go of him, watching hazily as the man sits up and stands. 

Wordlessly he starts pacing the balcony from one end to the other, hands clasped behind his back which makes Benedict chuckle. 

Alex looks up, quirking a questioning eyebrow at him. 

"Channelling your inner Sherlock there?" Benedict says, stretching out on the lounger, wincing at the dull ache in his muscles. 

Alex only makes a non-committal sound and keeps wandering. 

Benedict watches him through half closed lids, admiring the muscles working under his tanned skin, his long legs and the curve of his back. Smiling he drifts off, and only Alex's loud "okay" startles him awake again. 

"Come to a verdict, your honour?" he asks teasingly. 

"Yes," Alex says, flopping down on a chair next to Benedict.

"I'd like to give it a try," he starts, his face all business which makes Benedict grin. 

"Stop smiling, this is serious," Alex says, glaring at him and Benedict schools his face into an earnest expression even though the corners of his mouth are still twitching. 

"I want a proper contract with all my duties listed. I want it official. If I become your PA, I need to know exactly what's expected of me so I don't step on anyone's toes. I've never done anything like this but I'm confident that I can do it." 

"Anything you want," Benedict says, "I'm certain Karon still has some of the old contracts. We can amend one of them for you." 

Alex nods absently and then searches Benedict's eyes. 

"Yes, Karon. We have to tell her. She has to know. If no-one else, she does need to know what we are to each other." 

Benedict nods; he figured that too. She's his publicist and knows him better than anyone else. If Alex comes along on his travels it wouldn't take long for her to find out anyway. 

"Does that worry you? Having to tell her, I mean?" Alex asks. 

Benedict thinks about that for a moment, then shakes his head. 

"No, not really. I've been thinking about telling her anyway for a bit already. I'm pretty sure she knows, or at least suspects, that there is someone in my life. She didn't say anything, probably thinks it's none of her business." 

Benedict's eyes soften as he looks at Alex, smiling. 

"And I'm pretty certain that she won't be the least bit surprised that it's a man." 

Alex's eyebrows raise. 

"What makes you think that?" 

Benedict shrugs, lying back on his lounger, closing his eyes. 

"Just a hunch." 

Alex hums thoughtfully and for a while it's quiet. Then Benedict lifts his head. 

"You didn't say anything about your pay," he says, sounding a bit shocked. 

Alex snickers and nudges Benedict with his foot, making him shift so he can join him on the lounger. Lying down next to him, he says: 

"I've always hated payment negotiations. I figured Karon will take care of that." 

Benedict nods, shifting closer to Alex so he can nuzzle his neck. 

"She will. But you have to let me know if it's too little." 

Alex chuckles and slides an arm around Benedict, pulling him closer. 

"You have absolutely no idea what your last PA earned, right?" 

The man hides his face against Alex's neck, his voice sounding a bit embarrassed. 

"No? Karon takes care of that. She only says 'sign' and I do." 

Alex pulls back a little, taking in the flush on Benedict's cheeks and giggles. 

"How did you even manage to grow up without being totally exploited, huh? You are lucky that you can trust her." 

He kisses Benedict's nose. 

"You're a completely lost cause, are you?"

Benedict grins lopsidedly. 

"I am, totally and utterly useless. Unless it comes to acting. That I can do all on my own." 

Alex grin fades and he pulls him closer until their noses are touching. 

"And you do that magnificently." 

Benedict makes a soft noise deep in his throat, his hands sliding under Alex t-shirt.

"You really know how to sweet talk a man," he murmurs, distracted by the feeling of smooth skin under his fingers. 

"I do," Alex replies, pressing against the hand on his back, "and I even know how to do more than just talk." 

"Do you?" Benedict asks lowly, his eyes narrowing as Alex slides his hand over Benedict's half-naked body and slips inside his shorts. 

"Hmm, yes, I do." 

Clever fingers run over Benedict's already hardening cock, teasing him and he moans. 

"Empty promises," he groans even though his head falls back and his eyes close. 

"I don't make empty promises," Alex growls in his ear, his grip tightening around Benedict, stroking once and eliciting a low moan. 

And for a while there's no more talking as the sun fully sinks behind the trees, enveloping the terrace in darkness. 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

It's snowing. Big dreamlike snowflakes are covering everything in a white fluffiness. Alex stands by the window, looking out onto the terrace, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

He's nervous and he hates the feeling. He doesn't really get nervous. He can count on one hand the time’s he's gotten nervous. 

Benedict bustles around the room, humming softly under his breath, his reflection blurry in the cold glass of the window. 

Benedict. Two of the times he'd gotten nervous were about him or had to do with him. And now he can add a third time. 

Alex casts a glance at his watch: 15 more minutes. 

"Can you check on the roast, please? I need to change quickly," Benedict says, and as Alex turns, he sees the dark stain on his white shirt. He raises an eyebrow and just wants to ask what happened when the door bell rings. 

They stare at each other in panic for a second before they explode into a flurry of motion, Benedict towards the bedroom and Alex in direction of the door. 

Exhaling deeply he tries to calm his fluttering nerves and then opens the door. 

"Good evening Mrs. Ventham, Mr. Carlton, I'm Alex," he says, smiling nervously at Benedict's parents.

"Please, come on in, Benedict will be here in a second." 

He steps aside to let them enter. 

"Thank you, dear," Wanda says, smiling politely at him.

He feels a bit dizzy as he leads them into the sitting room, offering them a drink. Just as he goes to strike up some small talk, Benedict bursts into the room, the shirt wrongly buttoned and smiling brightly. 

"Mum. Dad. It's so good to see you." he says happily, hugging first his father then his mother, planting a loud kiss on her cheek, making her giggle delightedly.

"You look lovely as ever, mother," he says, beaming at her. 

"Always the charmer," she coos, holding him at arm-length, her sharp blue eyes flicking over his face and she frowns. 

"And you don't sleep enough, Love," she complains, running a motherly hand through his hair. 

He ducks his head, grinning sheepishly. 

"I know. Alex complains about that all the time." 

Wanda turns towards Alex standing by the door, watching them quietly, and she raises a curious eyebrow at him. 

For a second a heavy silence falls before Benedict clears his throat and holds out his hand. 

Hesitantly Alex steps forwards and after a reassuring look into Benedict's face he lays his hand in his. Benedict's fingers close around his and Alex feels parts of his nervousness leave him. 

This is it. Now there's no going back. 

"Mum, Dad, may I introduce to you Alex, my-", he hesitates for a second, the most beautiful smile blooming on his face as he looks at him, "-my boyfriend." 

Timothy and Wanda stare for a moment, their faces identically blank before Wanda visibly shakes herself, reaches out and slaps Benedict playfully on the arm. Then she seizes Alex from head to toe and opens her arms. Benedict nudges him forward and Wanda closes her arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

"Welcome to the family," she murmurs in his ear and as she lets go, her smile is blinding. 

Timothy is a bit more reserved but he shakes Alex's hand, his grip warm and secure, his smile so much like his son's.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the one who stole his heart," Wanda chirps, almost bouncing around them, the smile on her face never faltering. 

"Mum," Benedict protests but she ignores him, pulling Alex away and towards the sofa. She sits down and pats the space next to her. Alex casts a look at Benedict who only shrugs. 'You're on your own,' his eyes say and he turns to hide the relieved grin on his face as he walks into the kitchen to check on their dinner. 

"You know," Wanda stage-whispers loudly, "I've known for a while that there had to be someone, I just couldn't get it out of him. He's gotten pretty good at keeping secrets over the years." 

She sighs dramatically. 

"I could usually tell with one look but now..." 

Benedict peaks his head through the kitchen door. 

"Mother, you know I can hear you loud and clear, yes?" 

"Hush you, I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to your boyfriend." 

Benedict snorts, winking at Alex.

"Told you," he says and vanishes into the kitchen again, leaving Alex to his mum.

"So," Wanda says, sounding all business, "tell me how you two met." 

*

Three hours later it feels to Alex as if he's always belonged here: laughing with Benedict's parents, listening to the stories they have to tell, about people they've met and the shenanigans of their acting careers back in the days. 

He leans back, sipping his wine, his stomach pleasantly full and as Benedict's hand sneaks into his, laying on the table, he squeezes it happily. 

He's barely following the conversation, letting his eyes wander and drinking in the quiet atmosphere, realising that he's never been happier. 

"Alex," Timothy's dark voice tears him out of his head and he looks over, a bit guilty. 

"Yes?" 

"Tell us, what are you are doing for a living?" 

Alex laughs softly. 

"Actually, I work for your son." 

He pauses, letting the words sink in and bites back a grin as Wanda leans forward, eyeing him thoroughly. 

"That's why you look so familiar," she says, "I knew I’d seen you before but I couldn't for the life of me place you." 

Alex nods. 

"Yeah, that happens sometimes." 

He tries to stay out of the picture when Benedict's doing promotion work or premiers, Karon's the one used to being seen. Alex is usually the one in the shadows, keeping out of the limelight. But every now and then the photographer's get him too. 

"I'm his PA. Officially that is. We-," he casts a quick glance at Benedict who nods gently at him, "well, we try to keep our relationship as secret as possible. There's no need for anyone to know-" 

"Yet," Benedict interrupts firmly, caressing Alex's hand. 

"Yet," Alex says, "so we can continue to live undisturbed." 

The meaning of those words is loud and clear and Wanda nods softly. 

"We can keep secrets too, isn't that right, Tim?" 

Timothy hums his approval. 

"Of course. It's none of our business anyway." 

"Thank you," Benedict says, "we just don't feel ready for being chased all day just yet, you know?" 

"Love, we understand completely," Wanda says, reaching over the table and laying her hand over Benedict's and Alex's, "we won't say a word until you two decide to do so." 

*

After that, the conversation ventures into pleasurable topics and it's very late when Wanda and Timothy say their good-byes. Alex gets hugs from both parents and a whispered "take good care of him" from Wanda that makes him hug her a bit more tightly. 

"Always," he murmurs in her ear and as he lets go, her eyes are shining brightly. 

Benedict sees them outside to their car while Alex starts cleaning up the table and putting away the leftovers. 

"Have I ever told you how damn great you look in my flat?"

Benedict's low voice starts Alex a bit. Turning he takes in the view of the man standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching him. 

"No but keep telling me and you'll never get rid of me again," Alex teases, ignoring the flutter in his heart.

"What if I don't want that at all?" Benedict says, taking a step into the room and beckoning Alex over. His expression is serious and for a second Alex hesitates but then Benedict pulls a small box out of his pocket and holds it out to him. 

Alex stares at it, not moving. 

"Take it, it doesn't bite," Benedict smiles, the teasing tone tearing Alex out of his stupor. 

Carefully he takes it and slowly opens it to reveal a shiny new set of keys. 

"I know, you already have them but I thought a new set would make for a new start." 

He falls silent, his clear eyes scanning over Alex quickly before he takes a deep breath and says: 

"Alex, would you like to move in with me?" 

His voice is low and a bit shaky and he's biting his lower lip as Alex looks at him in surprise. 

"You're here most of the time anyway," Benedict says, "and I... well..." he stumbles over the words, "I love having you here. Going to bed with you in the evening and waking up with you in the morning, know this is not only my home but yours as well." 

He exhales, his cheeks flushing a little as Alex keeps staring at him silently. 

Looking at the keys in his hands a soft smile appears on his lips and as he meets Benedict's anxious gaze, he nods. 

"I'd love that," he says, closing his hand around the keys. 

"Thank goodness," Benedict mutters and closes the distance between them to kiss Alex soundly, "you worried me there for a second." 

Sliding his arms around Benedict's waist, Alex grins, a giddiness spreading warmly through his limbs. 

"Nothing to worry about. If you want to, you're stuck with me for quite a while," he murmurs against Benedict's lips as he kisses him softly. 

"Happy Christmas," he whispers, his breath warm against Alex's lips. 

"Happy Christmas," he replies and then there's only quiet moans while outside the snow keeps falling, silent and soft. 

***

"So, who else?"

"What about Tom and Sophie?" Benedict calls from the kitchen, carrying two cups of tea into the sitting room, setting them carefully on the table. 

"Yeah sure," Alex says, making a note on a piece of paper, and continues scrolling through his phone. 

"Stephen pretty certainly knows already," he adds, scribbling down another name on their list. 

"Hm, yes, he's watching us very closely lately, isn't he?" Benedict replies, peaking over his shoulder, "so is Adam. Just yesterday he asked when he'll get to meet the lucky one." 

Alex snorts. 

"He already has." 

"Yeah well, he doesn’t know that, does he?" 

Benedict rounds the sofa and falls next to Alex. 

"I'm still surprised that none of them ever suspected anything," he muses, curling around Alex, who's lying comfortably on the sofa, "either we're that good at hiding or they're all blind." 

Alex huffs a laugh. 

"I prefer to think we're just that good. And hey, if they don't suspect, the press doesn't either which is the main reason we're doing this." 

"True. Still, they're our friends. One would think they'd be more observant. I mean, it's been ages since anyone even asked about someone in my life." 

"They probably think you're far too busy for even attempting an affair," Alex chuckles and puts the phone down, wrapping his arms around Benedict, cuddling closer. 

"I'm not sure whether I should be amused or offended," Benedict pouts, making Alex laugh even more. 

"It helps that you're seen with so many beautiful women, they take the focus of what's right under their nose." 

Benedict pokes him playfully in the side. 

"Not my fault that I can be friends with women despite popular belief. The papers always make it sound like I've been quite the womaniser." 

"You were," Alex grins, kissing the top of his head, "sadly for them, you don't play for their team anymore." 

Benedict sighs contently, pushes his head further up and nuzzles Alex's neck. 

"True, I'm perfectly happy with having you." 

Falling silent they lie there, enjoying the simplicity of just holding each other, not doing anything but trading soft kisses and gentle caresses. It's far too seldom that they have the time for it. 

The doorbell tears them out of their peaceful bubble. 

"Are we expecting anyone?" Alex asks curiously. 

"No," Benedict says as he pushes himself up and shuffles through the hallway to open the door.

Alex sits up, peering over the edge of the sofa. He hears a quiet word exchange, and then James walks in, stopping dead in his tracks as he sees Alex on the sofa. 

"Oh hey, I didn't know you were here," he says, frowning at him. 

"Hi James," Alex says calmly even though his heart starts beating faster. He's only wearing pyjama  bottoms - they haven't bothered to get dressed this morning as they don’t plan on leaving the flat at all. 

James' eyes narrow but he doesn't say anything. 

"Tea?" Benedict asks casually but Alex hears the hint of alarm in his tone. 

James hears it too and his head whips around, now eyeing Benedict closely.

"Okay guys, what the fuck is going on?" 

Alex swallows hard; they wanted to tell their friends but they wanted to be prepared. Not be thrown into it without warning. 

"What do you mean?" he asks even though he knows it won't work. James knows them both too well. It's still a little miracle that he hasn’t found out earlier. 

"Oh, don't play stupid with me," James says, anger seeping into his tone, "I know something is going on. I come here to see how Ben is since I haven't heard from him in ages. Which also goes for you, Alex, some fine friends I have. And instead of finding a lonely Cumberbatch I find you two, all cosied up. In Ben's flat no less. So, are you going to tell me or shall I have an educated guess?" 

Benedict and Alex exchange a meaningful look. Benedict shrugs, leaving the decision to Alex. 

"Have a guess then," Alex says teasingly even though his stomach is knotting. He’s known James long enough that he's fairly certain he knows his reaction to finding out about them but it still chases a cold shiver down his spine. 

It's never getting any easier.  

James snorts and folds his arms over his chest, glaring alternately at the two men. 

"Well, it's pretty obvious, innit? You Alex, lost your job, or quit, I don't even know since I haven't spoken to one of my oldest friends in months," he spits the last word between gritted teeth, "holed up with the other friend I haven’t heard off in ages, letting him maintain you. Really Alex, I thought better of you." 

James has talked himself into a rage, almost shouting the last words. 

Silence falls over the three men until Benedict bursts into laughter, startling the other two. James looks at him as if he's gone mad, and as Alex starts chuckling too, he snarls loudly, his eyes burning furiously. 

"What the fuck is so funny about that?" he demands to know, hands curled into tight fists. 

Alex is the first who gets himself under control again; Benedict's entire body is shaking with hysterical laughter and Alex knows he won't be able to talk for a bit. 

"You might wanna sit down, James," Alex wheezes between giggles, taking deep breaths to calm himself enough so he can talk. 

"There's something you need to know," he says, the laughter subsiding and he casts a glance at Benedict who nods at him before he dissolves into another manic cackle. Alex raises an eyebrow at him and Benedict slaps a hand over his mouth; it doesn't help.

Alex is on his own. 

'Here goes nothing' he thinks as he looks at James, taking a deep breath.

*

Half an hour later their tea has gone cold. Benedict has finally calmed down enough and he's flopped next to Alex on the sofa, waiting anxiously for their friend to say something after Alex has finished telling their story. 

"So," James eventually says tonelessly, "you two. Together. Since February." 

Benedict nods. 

"Yes." 

"And you didn't tell anyone?" James asks, his face still motionless. 

"Well, my parents know since a few days ago now. Besides that, no, you're the first," Benedict says. 

James nods absently, still processing the news. 

"And nobody even suspected anything?" 

"You didn't. Why would anyone else?" Alex chimes in, ducking his head as James glowers at him. 

"James, please," Benedict says, "we planned on telling you soon. You just surprised us just now. We didn't mean to exclude you or anything, we just..." 

He looks at Alex helplessly. 

"We just wanted to get to know each other well enough before telling anyone," Alex adds, a quick smile darting over his face which Benedict mirrors. 

"Well, that you did, obviously," James says sarcastically, looking meaningfully at their state of undress. 

And just like that the tension in the room dissolves and they laugh together, relaxing into their respective seats. 

"I'm happy for you," James says, raising his voice so Benedict can hear him in the kitchen where he's making fresh tea for them, "it was about time you find someone." 

"I wasn't really looking for anyone, you know," he says as he comes back, setting down the mugs on the table, "but I guess sometimes love just finds you even though you're not really looking for it." 

The smile he gives Alex is heartbreakingly sweet and James looks away, suddenly feeling like an intruder. 

"I suppose so," Alex replies softly, an exact reflection of Benedict's smile on his face. 

"Oh God," James groans, "get a room, you two." 

"Shut up, Rhodes," Alex says good-naturedly, brushing his hand over Benedict's as he hands him his tea. 

"I'm getting a toothache just watching you," James grumbles but the amused lines around his eyes belie his words. 

Suddenly he sits up, his expression becoming quite stern. 

"Well then," he says, fixating both men with a hard stare, "I feel rather obligated to give the best friend's 'hurt him and I'll kill you' speech. So, don't you dare hurt him," his words are directed to Alex now, "don't play with him, he's far too gentle for this world anyway." 

Benedict wants to protest but James shushes him with a hand, turning towards him. 

"And you. Treat him right, he's a wonderful man, very kind even though he doesn't show it very often. He's got a very big heart under all the snark." 

Despite the sarcastic tone, Benedict knows that James speaks the truth, and so does Alex. 

"Promise," they both say unison, grinning at each other and Alex can't help the fleeting caress of Benedict's cheek. 

"Ugh, I've got to get going unless I want to help my dentist to that new car he wants," James throws in, winking at them as he stands. 

Alex and Benedict walk him to the door where James hugs them both goodbye. 

"Thank you for telling me," he says softly, all the sarcasm gone, "I appreciate the trust. And until further notice I will keep this to myself." 

The other two exchange a look. 

"Well," Alex says slowly, "we want to tell the others anyway, and the more help we have with that-" 

"It might make things easier if they know already," Benedict adds, "or perhaps suspect." 

"Oh boys," James sighs, fondly patting Alex shoulder, “I’ll see what I can do. But I won't make promises. You still have to go through this on your own with a few people." 

"We know. Still, you don't have to lie for us. We don't want that." 

James nods thoughtfully, and Benedict knows he's already contemplating to whom he's going to drop a few hints. 

"Thank you," he murmurs, pulling the man into another brief hug. 

"Lucky for you that I love you both," James grumbles as he pulls back. 

"And we love you," Alex says, beaming at him. 

James makes an undignified noise but they can see the suppressed amusement on his face.

"Oh shit, I totally forgot," he says, digging through the pockets of his jacket, "the main reason I came over." 

He hands Benedict a small wrapped package. 

"Happy Christmas. I've got the same for you, Alex but I guess you can share this one. See you." 

With that said, he turns and walks down the stairs, waving one last time before the whirling snow swallows his lean figure. 

"Well, that went well," Alex sighs, falling on the sofa as they walk back into the sitting room. 

Benedict makes a non-committal sound; he's unwrapping James' gift. A little 'oh' sound falls from his lips as he unveils it and he holds it up: it's James brand new live DVD, a special edition, not yet to buy. 

"Guess that's the afternoon sorted," Alex says dryly but the smile on his face is wide and thankful. 

"I guess so. Come on then, let's get classy." 

Chuckling Benedict puts the DVD in the player and they snuggle up on the couch to enjoy their Christmas present. 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

"Would you PLEASE stay still for a second? You're driving me crazy!" Alex whines, desperately trying to get Benedict to stop fidgeting long enough so he can fix his bowtie. 

Benedict's a nervous wreck, clenching his hands into Alex's shirt.  

"What if I win?" he asks, panic showing in his wide eyes. 

"Then you go up there, thank the Academy, your family and everyone else who made this possible," Alex replies dryly, finally able to finish the tie. 

He lets go of it and instead frames Benedict's face. 

"Look at me," he urges, waiting patiently for him to oblige, "good. Now breathe, my heart, breathe." 

Benedict does, drawing deep shuddering breaths until his body stops vibrating. Alex smiles. 

"That's my boy." 

Benedict huffs a laugh but seems calmer as Alex lets go of him, straightening the lapels of his suit. He takes a step back and slips so seamlessly into his business persona, that Benedict needs a second to catch up.

"Okay," Alex says, taking up the clipboard laying on the desk, "the car will be here in 20 minutes. Karon is waiting for you in the lobby and will be by your side to get you through the photocall and the odd interview so put on your best smile. It shouldn't take longer than about half an hour. After that, cocktails in the foyer and getting to your seat. Your phone is locked for all calls but family and friends and I took the freedom of generating a 'thank you' message on it, going out to them all in the case you win." 

Benedict stares at him.

"Isn't that a bit premature?" 

Alex grins and puts the clipboard down. 

"No, because I know tonight's your night. Anyhow, I'll have a seat two rows behind you and Karon if you need anything else. But I don't think you do." 

Benedict nods absently; Alex's methodical listing of the evening's events has calmed him a bit as it always does. 

"Any questions?" Alex asks. 

"Can the nervous nominee have a kiss?" Benedict says, smiling shakily, "before he has to suffer through the night without being able to touch his boyfriend for the next 10 hours or so?" 

Alex takes a step closer, twining his hands with Benedict's. 

"Yes, he can but only if he stops being all twitchy. Everything will be fine." 

He leans in and plants a quick kiss on Benedict's lips. 

"What the hell was that?" he asks incredulously as Alex pulls back.

"A kiss?" 

"That was a piss poor excuse of a kiss," Benedict growls, scowling at him. He twists his hands in Alex's shirt and pulls him hard against his chest, sealing his lips over Alex's mouth, kissing him fiercely. 

He's still quivering with nerves and Alex suddenly realises that he needs to do something to get him through the night without collapsing. 

Throwing all caution in the wind, he returns the kiss while he runs his fingertips down his torso and deftly opens the fly of the fitted trousers, pushing them down Benedict's thighs. 

"Alex, what are you - OH!" 

Benedict gasps loudly as Alex drops to his knees and pushes the dress shirt out of his way to nuzzle his twitching cock. Faintly he thinks how little it takes to get him aroused: a deep kiss, a gentle touch at the right spot, a whispered word. He's so sensitive, so responsive to the smallest things. 

And right now, he's thankful for it. 

They don't have much time but he's certain it won't take long. Benedict is so wired, and he groans loudly as Alex takes him all the way in, moaning around the heated length sliding effortlessly between his lips, heavy and fully hard already. 

Hollowing his cheeks he starts sucking, twirling his tongue around the head, the bitterness of precome welcomed, alternating between sharp licks and softly grazing his teeth over silky skin. 

Benedict's babbling incoherently, his hands clenching hard by his side and Alex knows that he doesn't want anything more than to bury his hands in his hair.

'To hell with it' he thinks, scrambling for Benedict's fists and puts them in his hair. He still has time to re-do it once they're finished. Right now, all Alex wants is for him to get off and use the post orgasmic haze to get him halfway calmly through the turmoil that is the red carpet and the show itself. 

Benedict's choked off moans ring in his ears and he feels himself getting hard as well. He ignores it though. This is all about Benedict. 

Sucking harder, Alex lets his jaw go slack, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of Benedict's arse, pulling him closer, and Benedict understands. 

His hands tighten in Alex's hair, his hips moving faster and it only takes a few more thrusts into the heat of Alex's mouth for him to lose it. 

Glancing up, Alex is rewarded with the sight of Benedict throwing his head back, lips parted, panting Alex's name as he comes silently. His body is trembling violently, his knees buckle and it's probably sheer willpower that he doesn't collapse on the floor. Alex steadies him, swallowing the bitterness, mindful to not let one drop escape and spoil Benedict's expensive suit. 

Once he's sure he's got everything, he leans back, looking up. 

Benedict's face is utterly blissed out, his eyes closed and he's swaying. 

Cursing quietly Alex scrambles to his feet, groaning at his own neglected erection and helps Benedict to sit on a chair. He hurries to the bathroom to get a wet cloth and clean him up. Pulling him to his feet again, he helps him to re-dress before he heavily falls back on the chair. 

He blinks at Alex with glassy eyes and Alex can't help the cheeky grin on his burning lips. 

"Feeling better?" he asks, reaching out to push a stray strand of hair out of Benedict's glowing face. 

Benedict only hums, an expression of calmness on his face. 

Alex steps back, letting his gaze roam over him, taking him in - besides the fact that his hands are still gently shaking and he's got that serene, peaceful look on his face he always gets after sex, he looks ready for the night. 

Alex's phone buzzes and he checks it. 

"If that's not perfect timing. The car's here." 

Reaching out he pulls Benedict up, straightens the bowtie and wipes a non existent lint off his shoulder. He kisses him again and then pushes him towards the door. 

"Go, get 'em, tiger," he chuckles. 

Benedict casts a glance over his shoulder, raising a sarcastic eyebrow at him. 

"Seriously?" he asks, his voice rough and he clears his throat. 

Alex laughs. 

"Seriously. Now go and make me proud." 

Mildly shaking his head Benedict leaves the room, the taste of himself still on his tongue. 

It'll get him through the night. 

*

Alex is soaking in the bathtub, sleepily thinking that he should get out - he's so tired he can barely keep his eyes open. But it's nice and warm and the heat of the water is doing wonders for his aching muscles. 

It has been a long day, loud and busy, and he's happily enjoying the peace and quiet of the steamy bathroom. 

Just as he nods off again, he hears the door to the room fly open and rattle against the wall before it slams loudly shut. 

"Alex?" Benedict's voice is gruff and Alex smiles - he's drunk and has talked too much. 

"Bathroom," he calls back and seconds later the door flies open as well. 

Benedict stumbles in, leaning heavily against the frame. 

He's lost his jacket and his sleeves are rolled up, his bowtie loosened around his neck, and his hair is ruffled. His face is rosy, and his eyes are sparkle in the dim light of the room. 

Smiling hazily he watches Alex who returns his look, and then he slowly raises a hand, and Alex notices the golden statue between his fingers. 

Alex's own smile widens and he beckons Benedict over, holding out a hand. 

Taking the few steps he hands it over, and Alex gasps surprised at the weight of the small award. Wordlessly he inspects it from all sides and then gives it back. 

Benedict takes it and sets it on the counter, falling heavily on the closed lid of the toilet and sighs happily. 

Silently they watch each other for another moment before Benedict's gaze sharpens and his brows draw together. 

"You're naked," he slurs, leaning forward to peer at Alex. 

"Brilliant deduction, Mr Cumberbatch," Alex snickers, stretching languidly in the water. 

"Wet _and_ naked," Benedict mutters, a frown on his forehead and for a second he looks like a lost child and Alex has to bite back a giggle. 

"Yes, very wet and very naked" he repeats lowly, searching Benedict's eyes who stares back until sudden understanding forms on his face. He stands, sways and steadies himself before he starts undoing the button of his waistcoat. 

Mutely Alex watches him, his eyes glued to slender fingers, clumsily opening button upon button and then dropping the fabric carelessly on the floor. He kicks off his shoes and somehow gets rid of his socks without falling over. 

As he starts on the buttons of his shirt, a sharklike grin flickers over his face, his slanted eyes  gleam dangerously as he pushes it off, toying with the button of his trousers. 

Alex can see the outline of his erection and swallows hard, his own cock twitching in anticipation. 

Seconds later the trousers are gone and Benedict is standing there in all his glorious nakedness, cock proudly standing against the nest of dark curls, his head tilted, fingers thrumming restlessly against his thighs. 

"I think," he starts hoarsely as he takes a step closer to the tub, his burning eyes never leaving Alex's, "I think I owe you... something." 

Without clarifying, he comes closer and just as he wants to take another step, he stumbles and with a surprised squeak he tumbles and only Alex's quick reflexes stop him from hitting his head on the edge of the tub. Water splashes everywhere as he lands in the big tub, spluttering and snorting as he goes under, flailing wildly. 

Alex starts laughing as he comes up again, a big blotch of bubbles on his head and an utterly surprised expression on his face. 

He glares at Alex, wiping his eyes and then starts laughing too, their combined giggles echoing in the room. 

"That didn't exactly work out like I had it planned," he wheezes, the lisp coming out a bit, making Alex's cock twitch. He loves it when the man forgets himself enough to not pay attention enough to suppress the hated speech impediment. 

Benedict's thigh is slipped between Alex's legs and he feels it, his head jerking up, his eyes widening. 

"But I think I can make up for it," he growls as he shifts, sliding over Alex and pressing his body against his, letting him feel his own arousal. 

"Hnngg," Alex says as Benedict's burning lips find his, his tongue slipping inside his mouth and Benedict's kissing him deeply. 

Alex barely feels Benedict's fingers wandering over his skin and he cries out as they close tightly around his throbbing erection, immediately starting a rough rhythm. 

"I wouldn't have gotten through the day without you," Benedict whispers as he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against Alex's, his motion never faltering, stroking him hard and relentless. 

Alex is quickly tumbling towards the edge, and he arches into Benedict's hand, one hand tangled in his wet hair, moaning helplessly. 

"You... you would have...," he gasps, crying out as Benedict's fingers twist expertly, shooting a  cascade of sensations through his body. 

"No, I wouldn't. 'm lost without you," Benedict purrs in his ear, panting himself now, his hardness rutting against Alex's hip. 

Blindly Alex reaches out with the hand not entwined in dark curls and wraps his hand around the other man's cock. Benedict groans hoarsely, speeding up his motions. Water splashes on the floor, their combined whines loud in each other's ears. 

Everything shrinks down to their hands around the other one, slippery friction and heated pants against wet skin, full of desire and desperate longing. 

Alex arches up, shuddering heavily as the warm air hits his exposed skin and he comes, head falling back and against the edge of the tub, broken whimpers tumbling from his lips as he trembles through his orgasm. 

"God, I love your face when you come," Benedict whispers roughly and then his voice cracks and he cries out, spilling his own release into Alex's hand. 

Gasping for breath they collapse against each other, the water sloshing over them as they collect themselves again. 

Alex opens his eyes only to find Benedict watching him hazily, a mysterious expression in his darkened eyes. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something but then shakes his head and leans down to kiss Alex, slow and deep, exploring his mouth like it's the first time. 

Alex is almost sure he can taste the words on the tip of his tongue, feels them reverberate through his bones and he wraps his arms tightly around Benedict's shoulders, pulling him closer, kissing back as if his life depends on it. 

When they part, Benedict's face is soft, his eyes clear and he brushes a gentle finger over Alex's cheek, plastering tiny kisses all over his face. 

Alex giggles - it tickles. He pushes Benedict back and sits up. 

"Come on you, lets get your drunk arse to bed," he murmurs. He feels a bit drunk himself and as he tries to get up, he slips and drops back into the bath, sending another wave over the floor. 

"'m not drunk," Benedict mutters, "a tad tipsy perhaps." 

"Hm, yes, certainly," Alex grins, trying to stand up again and succeeding. Clambering out of the tub, he grabs a towel and wraps it carelessly around his hips before he reaches out to help Benedict stand up. 

It takes a while and with lots of giggles and quiet curses on both sides, they finally make it into bed, slipping damp and naked under the sheets, sighing as they stretch out on cool linen. 

"Good night," Alex says quietly as he pulls the duvet over them. 

Benedict mumbles unintelligibly, he's already half asleep and Alex props his head on his arm, watching him, trying to burn this very moment in his memory. 

Tousled dark hair curling around his head, all the tension drained from his body now that the pressure has fallen off him. His dark lashes flutter a bit and he's making the most adorable sounds as he drifts further into sleep.

Alex reaches out and caresses his warm cheek, and his pulse quickens as a brief smile flickers over Benedict's lips before he starts snoring quietly.

Pushing a pillow under his head, Alex lies down, letting the evening run through his head once more.

He had been bursting with pride when they announced his name. Watching him stumble up those stairs and take the shiny award with shaking hands had made his heart flutter wildly. He can’t remember his speech or anything else but he still remembers the second they locked eyes in a room full of people afterwards. He was surrounded by fellow actors, congratulating him, and Alex had no chance of getting close to him. But he saw Benedict's smile widen. 

It was enough. 

It had taken another hour or so till they finally had time to speak to one another. Benedict didn't want to go to the party without Alex, but he had convinced him. 

"Listen, nobody brings their PA to those parties, Karon will be leaving as soon as the interviews are done. You don't need me there," Alex had reasoned, also knowing very well that it would be very hard to resist just pulling the man into a dark corner and risking their secret. 

"I'll go back to the room, watch some telly and have a bath. You go and have fun, you deserve it." 

Benedict had pouted but then the prospect of dancing and drinking had gotten the better of him. 

"I won't stay long," he promised lowly but Alex shook his head. 

"Don't you dare go cutting it short for me. It's your first bloody Oscar, go and enjoy it to the fullest. We'll have our own party when you're back." 

Growling Benedict had stared at him before he visibly pulled himself together and left without looking back. 

And celebrated they had, Alex thinks as he curls around Benedict's sleeping body, resting a hand over his steadily beating heart. 

He falls asleep with a smile on his face, the Oscar forgotten in the bathroom.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Alex watches him silently.

Benedict's sitting at the table, utterly absorbed in his task as he rolls his cigarettes. His slender are fingers moving securely and Alex is quite hypnotised by his motions. 

Picking up a bit of tobacco and dropping it on the thin paper, gentle fingertips spreading it evenly. Then taking the paper in his large hands and delicately rolling it between his long fingers until he's satisfied. 

Alex can't take his eyes off his hands as he lifts them and as his tongue flickers over the sealing part to wet it, he groans lowly, he can't help it. 

Benedict looks up at the sound, his eyes behind the black-rimmed glasses narrow as he meets Alex's transfixed gaze. 

"What?" he asks, rolling the cigarette between his fingers and putting it down, tilting his head at Alex who swallows. 

"Nothing," he croaks, suddenly overwhelmed by emotions. 

This very moment, them being at home on a rainy afternoon, will be with Alex for the rest of his life. 

And he realises that he doesn't want anything more than to have more of these quiet moments. Lie ins on days off, having breakfast on the balcony in the sun, quarrelling over whose turn the shopping is or who used the last bits of toothpaste. 

"I love you," he whispers helplessly.

It's not the first time he says it but Benedict's eyes widen nevertheless and the smile spreading over his face is breathtaking. 

"I love you too," he says softly, his voice reverberating in the space between them. 

And it's just then that Alex does what he thought he'd never do. 

He pushes away from where he stands and walks over to Benedict who leans back in his chair, looking up at him with shining eyes and the smile still lingering on his lips. 

Alex looks at him for a moment, taking in all the little details: the smudge on the glass of his specs where he pushed them carelessly back up his nose, the dip of the scar on his lower lip, deepening as he smiles, the faint flush on his high cheekbones and the creases on his forehead as he frowns at him.

Alex reaches out and pushes a hand into Benedict's hair, stroking back that errant curl that always escapes no matter how short it is. 

"I love you," he repeats, his voice husky and dark as he slowly lowers himself until he's kneeling in front of Benedict's chair. The smile on Benedict's face fades as he watches him, confusion flickering over his sharp features. 

Alex's hand is shaking as he takes Benedict's in his, dropping a kiss in his palm before he looks up again. 

"Marry me," he whispers, the words tumbling from his lips of their own accord, hanging heavily in the space between them. 

He didn't really intend on doing this; he's always said he's not the marrying type but Benedict  has  changed him in so many ways - all for the better. 

Benedict stares at him, the confusion on his face deepening and Alex has to suppress a hysteric giggle. The man is so clever but sometimes he's a bit slow. 

"Marry me," he repeats, taking Benedict's other hand, twining his fingers with his. 

There's so much he wants to say, so many things but suddenly his throat feels too tight, the words stuck in there and so he waits, kneeling in front of the one man he can't be without.

"Fuck, say something," he pleads as the silence stretches further, "...anything." 

"Yes." 

It's barely audible and Alex leans closer, his hands instinctively tightening around Benedict's. 

"What?" 

Benedict's blushing and his eyes are wide but he starts smiling, hesitantly at first but it quickly turns blinding. 

"I said yes. Yes, Alex. Yes, I will marry you. A million times yes." 

Now it's Alex turn to stare, stare into the face he's come to love so much it hurts sometimes. 

Everything around him suddenly vanishes, the only thing he sees is Benedict.

"Really?" he croaks, needing the assurance to know he's not only dreaming this. 

"Really," Benedict says, the smile on his lips so wide it must hurt and yet he doesn't seem to care. 

Alex reaches up and crushes their mouths together, his hands helplessly searching for a hold as the sudden realisation hits him. He can't breathe properly and yet he keeps kissing Benedict as if his life depends on it, his fingers scrambling for a hold on his shirt, his shoulder until they slide into his hair, pulling him closer. 

Benedict makes a rumbling sound, the world tilts sideways and then they're both on the floor, clinging to each other, kissing like starving men, hands tightly holding on to one another. 

Eventually Alex breaks the kiss, gasping for air, his mind buzzing and he feels as if he's going to pass out. He doesn't notice that Benedict makes soft soothing noises, stroking his back and holding him close until he doesn't have the feeling of falling anymore. 

"Blimey," he breathes after a while, "guess people do still have panic attacks." 

Benedict's low chuckle resonates in his chest as he pulls him closer in his arms, and Alex rests his head on his chest, Benedict's scent surrounding him, calming him. 

"Better?" Benedict asks after a while, a soft amusement audible in the dark rumble of his words. 

Alex nods and pushes himself up, gazing down into Benedict's beautiful face. 

"I did just ask you to become my husband, yes?" he asks quietly, "and you said yes?" 

"Yes you did and yes, I did," he murmurs. 

"Not a dream or a hallucination?" Alex whispers, the realisation slowly trickling into his consciousness.

"No." 

"And you mean it? You would, you _will_ , marry me? Spend the rest of your life with me?" 

Benedict nods again, his lids fluttering, and he pulls the other man closer. 

"'Til death do us part'", he recites lowly, and Alex shudders at the raw honesty he detects in his words.

"I can't live without you anymore," Benedict murmurs roughly, dropping tiny kisses all over Alex's face, "there's nothing I'd rather do than marrying you." 

Words fail Alex, his heart threatens to burst with emotions and so he seals his lips over Benedict's again, trying to let him feel what he can't say right now. 

Benedict answers in kind, the kiss deep and slow, a promise of all the things to come, of a future together. 

*

An hour later they lay in bed, curled around each other so closely there's not even a hairsbreadth space between them. They're both still catching their breath but they're slowly beginning to find words. 

"What do you think about spring?" Alex murmurs against Benedict's chest, trailing lazy kisses over the wide expanse of pale, glistening skin. 

"Pretty season," he replies cheekily. 

Alex bites him just above one nipple, making him yelp. 

"For a wedding ceremony, Silly." 

"Hm, sounds very cliché," is the low response. 

"Nothing wrong with a bit of cliché since we're not a cliché couple anyway," Alex hums, leaning back, propping his head in a hand. 

"True." 

"And now that I think of it properly," Alex smiles, trailing a finger along Benedict's face, "I know just the place for it." 

"Do you now?" 

"Hm, yes, I do." 

"What a clever fiancé I have," Benedict rumbles and laughs lowly as Alex shudders heavily. 

"God, I'm a fiancé," he groans, dropping his head on Benedict's chest, giddy laughter bubbling up. 

"I can't believe I asked you," he mutters, "and even more, I can't believe you said yes," he looks up, meeting Benedict's eyes. 

"You'd rather I said no?" he asks curiously, smiling softly as Alex wildly shakes his head. 

"God no. I-" he hesitates, trying to sort the thoughts in his head, "-it just came over me." 

Benedict raises an eyebrow. 

"So you didn't-" 

"Stop right there, Mister," Alex says sternly, sitting up, "I meant it like I never meant anything before. Yes, it was a spur of the moment but I don't regret asking you. I love you more than words can express and that sometimes scares me as I've never felt like this before. You're my everything and I don't know what I would do if I lose you. Seeing you sitting there, I just knew I want to spend the rest of my life with you, see you do those things every day. Rolling cigarettes, making tea, smiling at me like you do just now, all those little things that make me the happiest man alive." 

His voice trails off and he loses himself in the sight of Benedict staring at him, his dark eyes shimmering suspiciously brightly. He doesn't blink for a long time but when he does, a stray tear rolls down his cheek which he doesn't notice. 

He reaches out, his elegant fingers sliding so gently over Alex's face that he has to close his eyes to keep his own treacherous tears from falling. 

"I'm so glad we met," Benedict whispers, his voice breaking at the end. 

Words become unnecessary as Alex leans down and kisses him until they're both out of breath. 

*

Alex is restless and soon he's propped against the headboard, his trusty clipboard in hands, chewing on the pencil, pondering. 

Benedict's lounging contently next to him, the duvet haphazardly pulled over his bum, watching him. 

"You're impossible, you know that?" he says after a while, shifting so he can look at him.

"Hm?" 

"Already planning and organising?" 

Alex shrugs, looking down at him from under his messy hair falling in his eyes. 

"I just like things to be in order. And now that you’ve said yes I'd like to be prepared." 

His eyes widen as a thought strikes him and he puts the clipboard down. 

"Or would you rather wait? I just thought-" 

Benedict rolls over and rests his head on Alex's stomach, running a hand lazily over Alex's side. 

"Nah, why wait. It's probably a good idea to do this as long as we're still undiscovered. We won't be able to hide a wedding from them," he waves a slender hand towards the window, wordlessly reminding Alex that still only a few select people know about their relationship. 

"Well, one can hide things, even from the ever present press. One only needs to be cleverer than them," Alex says, making Benedict lift his head and eye him thoroughly before he grins and drops back down. 

"You already have a plan." 

It's not a question; Benedict knows him and he knows that if anyone can make the impossible possible, it's Alex. 

"Sort of," Alex muses, tapping the pencil against the clipboard. 

"Tell me." 

Alex takes up his clipboard again, pointing at a few things he's already written down. 

"If we go for next spring, which I really like, we have roughly six months. Only a handful people know my full name. If I go and book a small hotel a bit out of town for a wedding party nobody would suspect anything. I’d have to look into it but I'm pretty sure you can hold wedding ceremonies at the Heath without too much of a fuss. Again, I would book that in my name. That gives us the advantage of keeping your name out of it for as long as possible. Of course we would have to go to the registry office together but I'm sure we can find someone who can keep their mouth shut until it's over." 

Benedict's arms around Alex's waist are suddenly covered in goosebumps. 

"Gosh, you've already thought this through, haven't you?" he mutters in a wondrous tone. 

"It's my job to anticipate and plan accordingly," Alex says slowly. 

"Yes but this is _our_ wedding you're planning," Benedict replies, pressing his cheek against Alex's stomach to keep himself from shivering. 

"Oh." 

It takes a moment for Alex to process this and suddenly he realises the entire extent of one little question he asked on a whim. It's not someone else he's planning for, not some stranger whose day he's mapping out, it'll be his and Benedict's wedding. Their own special day, a day he thought he'd never have. 

And the full force of that thought drives the air out of his lungs and he starts trembling. 

"OH!" he breathes, the clipboard falling out of his hands. 

Benedict lifts his head, sliding up and rests his forehead against Alex's, peppering little kisses over his face. 

"Finally getting it, are you? This is us, Alex, you and me. Not some poor bastard who can't organise shit, it'll be you and I." 

Alex curses quietly yet very vividly, making Benedict huff a hoarse laugh and snuggle a bit closer. 

"God, you're adorable, I -" 

Alex stops him with a hard kiss, suddenly overwhelmed by feelings he has no control over. Rolling over, he pins Benedict on the bed, licking past his welcoming lips and deep into his mouth. A feral urge is burning deep in his stomach and he can't help the possessive growl rumbling in his chest. His hands search for Benedict's and he presses his fragile wrists deep into the mattress, a burning fire erasing every rational thoughts.

Benedict's body reacts instantly, arching against Alex and he feels him harden against his thigh. 

He deepens the kiss, moaning unabashedly as their tongues meet, and he pushes his rapidly hardening erection against Benedict's, rolling his hips against him. 

"Mine," Alex groans, letting go of Benedict's wrists, groping around the sheets with one hand while he tangles the other on Benedict's wild hair, "all mine." 

Kissing him again, he feels all his restraints slip, all his control dissolving and he gives himself over to an urgent need he didn't know was in him. 

He finds the discarded bottle and lets go of Benedict entirely, sitting back up. Benedict's galaxy eyes are watching him closely and Alex can see how his pupils dilate and his breath quickens as he pops the lube open. 

He quickly slicks himself up, never taking his gaze off the other man. He shoves Benedict's thighs apart with his knees and pulls him closer before he takes himself in hand and unrelentingly slides inside Benedict, making him hiss loudly; he must still be a bit sore but right now Alex can't help it. 

His body is taking over, takes what he needs and he thrusts hard into the other man, moaning loudly as Benedict clenches around him, crying out, his fingers digging deep into the sheets beneath him. 

"Mine," Alex rasps again, "and everyone will know it." 

He slides his shaking hands in Benedict's hair and pulls his head back, exposing his long neck, flushed and gorgeous. Alex leans down and sucks a dark bruise just below his jaw all the while growling lowly. 

"Good lord almighty," Benedict gasps, tilting his hips upwards to give Alex easier access. And Alex takes the hint, shifting and then pounding mercilessly into him, taking in every single one of Benedict's choked off whines and moans. 

"So fucking gorgeous," he breathes, pressing his flat stomach against Benedict's throbbing cock, "all tousled and sweaty and beautiful." 

Benedict groans roughly, the open need on his face urging Alex on and he can already feel his orgasm coursing through his blood. Benedict's head presses into the pillow, his eyes barely open, his entire body trembling under Alex's hard thrusts all the while the most erotic sounds falling from his reddened lips.  

"Ben, Love, look at me," Alex whispers between breathy moans and as Benedict's lids slowly flutter open, the expression of trust and love in his stormy eyes is all Alex needs to send him over the edge. 

He comes with a loud cry, pulsing inside Benedict, pressing as deep as possible and then collapses on top of him, gasping for air. 

Benedict's rutting against him, making desperate whimpering noises and Alex pulls out, sliding an unsteady hand between their sweaty bodies and curling it around Benedict's hardness, stroking him fiercely. 

Benedict's writhing underneath him, the sounds he makes are needy and it doesn't take long before he arches up and comes all over Alex's hand, mumbling his name over and over like a prayer. 

Alex eases him through it and then falls next to him, breathing heavily, his heart thundering in his chest. 

They're silent for a while until Alex has collected himself enough to speak. 

"I'm sorry," he mutters, "I don't know what came over me. Did I hurt you?" 

Benedict's low chuckle chases a shiver down his spine and as he glances over, he's shaking his head, his face red, and the expression on it the most breathtaking thing Alex has ever seen. 

"It was-" he narrows his eyes, pondering, "-unexpected. And hot. Didn't know you're the possessive type," he murmurs, running a hand down Alex's spine which makes him shudder. 

Alex feels hot embarrassment rushing through his veins and he hides his flushed face in Benedict's warm hair.  

"Sorry." 

"Stop it, it was bloody hot, you should ask more often if I want to marry you," Benedict mutters, still a bit breathless, "I'll never say anything but yes if it results in this," he smirks, licking a wet stripe over Alex's neck, moaning as he pulls him closer, wrapping his arms tightly around him. 

"I might do that," he murmurs, lifting up and caressing the already darkening mark on Benedict's neck. 

"Good thing it's cool enough to wear a scarf," he murmurs, leaning down and kissing the spot gently. 

"One day I'll wear it proudly," Benedict replies lowly, wrapping himself tightly around Alex's limp body. They're drifting into a hazy sleep within minutes, not caring about the mess on the sheets or their stomachs. 

*

"I also have an idea," Benedict says when they're back in bed, freshly showered and still a bit damp, "we could send a few pictures to the papers and social media outlets. So we, hopefully, don't have them wait at our doorsteps and or hunt down the photographer or whatever else they do to get photos of us. That way I could also come out to the world." 

Alex sits up, jostling Benedict's head that's resting on his chest. 

"You're ready for that?" 

"As ready as one can be. Have been for a while now I reckon but I had no idea how to break the news. Announcing a wedding, well, feels like the best way to let them know. Going out with a bang." 

The last is muffled against Alex's skin, shooting a hot furious jolt through him. 

"Woah, hey, what are you talking about?" 

Benedict doesn't look up, only shrugs. 

"Well, it will probably have my career stagnating. You know how they are..." 

"No, I don't. How are they?" Alex asks, barely keeping the growl out of his voice. 

"Alex, please, we both know that my coming out won't be a happy thing for everyone. I will still get job offers, I don't doubt that but they will definitely slack off. It’s still not fully accepted to be an openly gay actor. I won't be able to pick what I like, I’ll most likely have to take what they offer me. But you have to see the positive side of it. I will have much more time for you, for us, then." 

Alex stares at him in speechless shock before he grabs Benedict's shoulders, making him turn towards him. 

"I won't allow that. I don't want you to ruin your career for me. Not gonna happen. We're keeping it quiet then-" 

"Alex, we can't keep it quiet forever. And you know just as well that we won't be able to hide getting and being married, even if we wanted. They _will_ find out, one way or the other. Plus, I'm tired of having to hide, of having to stop myself from touching or kissing you in public. I love you. And I want the world to know that. If they can't deal with that, that's their problem not mine." 

"Ben, this is huge. I can't be responsible for you not being able to work like you used to," Alex says helplessly. 

He’s never really thought about this, didn't _want_ to think about it. Their relationship within their four walls or their circle of friends has become such a normality: the keeping his hands to himself, the not touching, he's gotten so used to it he sometimes forgets that's it's not actually what they are.

And he has ignored what's at stake. Not for him, he can deal with almost everything but for Benedict. Not only work-wise but also personally - Alex just knows too well how it feels coming out to people, not knowing how they'll react. 

And it will be much bigger for a well known and adored public person like Benedict. His fans, the media - the buzz will be tremendous and not all around friendly. 

Benedict senses Alex's discomfort and he slides his hands up his arms and neck, framing his face and turns it gently towards him. 

"Stop worrying, Alex, for once I've had lots of time to think this through. The wedding is the perfect reason to get it out there and stop the hiding. We've done this for too long already. It's time to end it. You deserve better. You're a wonderful man, you're _my_ wonderful man and I'll be damned if I don't want the rest of the world to finally see that. And I won't be completely out of work even though some projects will definitely fall through because of me not being straight. But that's okay, I know I will still find work every now and then. It'll be fine.”

Benedict sounds so convincing and the smile he gives him is sincere. 

"I- gosh, I have forgotten how much there is at stake for you," Alex says, for a second distracted by Benedict's mouth, brushing over his lips. 

"Then keep forgetting it," Benedict murmurs, nibbling on Alex's lower lip, "rather you concentrate on becoming my husband." 

Alex knows that tone: discussion over. Benedict can be quite stubborn sometimes and Alex can see that he's determined.

Sighing he leans back and Benedict snuggles against him again, humming contently. 

"As long as we're together, I can deal with anything," he murmurs, yawning loudly. 

Alex thinks about that, certain the last word hasn't been spoken about it. But the warm bed, Benedict's pliant body and his own hazy mind make him postpone this discussion. 

Another time, he thinks, absently carding a hand through Benedict's hair, making the man purr quietly. He laughs softly despite himself and leans down, kissing the back of Benedict's head. 

"My cuddle monster," he murmurs fondly and Benedict purrs a bit louder, the low vibrations sending shivers through Alex's limbs. 

"You like it," is the sleepy reply. 

"God help me, I do. I never thought I would, but I do. You changed a lot of my views now that I think about it," Alex says, "and astoundingly I like it a lot." 

He doesn't get a reply and glancing down he finds Benedict is fast asleep and snoring silently. 

Alex smiles and pulls the duvet over his naked back. Taking up his clipboard again, he continues to make plans. 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

When Benedict wakes up, his first look is out the window: a few scattered clouds sail over an otherwise blue sky and he sighs relieved. 

Falling back onto the pillows his hand instinctively slides to the other side of the bed even though he knows it's empty. 

James had insisted that they spend their last night apart. Alex had rolled his eyes and Benedict had loudly protested but James had stayed adamant. He almost dragged Alex out of the flat, barely letting them kiss goodbye. 

"You'll get him back tomorrow," James had joked, "... maybe," and with wild cackles had left him alone in their flat, staring after them. 

'Today's the day' Benedict thinks as he lies in bed, trying to process that in a few hours he's going to be a married man. 

It chases a delighted shiver through his body and suddenly he's too hyped up to stay in bed. 

Pushing the duvet aside he gets up and into the shower, taking his time and revelling in the hot water thrumming down on him. Stepping outside, he wraps a towel around his hips and clears the mirror, looking at himself critically. 

He doesn't need to shave as Alex had mentioned - rather incidentally - how much he likes the scruff so Benedict had decided to let it grow for their big day. 

His hair is freshly cut and for the first time in years not dyed, shimmering bronze and copper in the random sunbeams dancing through the bathroom. Diane will be here in about an hour to help him with it, making sure he doesn't look like he's put his fingers in an outlet. Ruffling his hands through it, he leaves it be and starts brushing his teeth. 

After that he applies a tiny bit of his favourite aftershave and then strolls back into the bedroom to get dressed: for now only in a clean t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. 

His gaze falls on his suit hanging on the door of his cupboard. 

He doesn't know what Alex's will look like - they went shopping alone and just like the bride won't show her groom the dress before the wedding day, both men had kept their wedding suits from each other. 

Benedict's bespoke suit is midnight blue and he knows it brings out his eyes and makes his pale skin stand out extraordinarily; his mum had been speechless for about five minutes when she’d seen it which he can't remember having ever happened before. 

The shirt is two shades lighter and after a bit of a discussion, Alex and he had opted for leaving  off  the neck-wear, giving it a tad more casual look. 

Grinning he touches his naked toe to the shoes sitting under the suit: Alex had insisted on them. Benedict had refused to ever wear them again but Alex had pleaded and begged and after two hours of insanely tortuously drawn out sex, Benedict had given in. 

"The papers are going to rip me apart over that", he had tried to argue but Alex had stayed stubborn.

"Your fans will love it," he had said, the smile on his face positively evil, "see it as your jewellery instead of a tiara." 

Shaking his head slightly he shuffles into the kitchen, his heart jumping as his eyes fall on the list on the table. 

Alex had written down what he was supposed to do - in order no less - this morning. 

Clicking the kettle on, he goes over it for the umpteenth time, snickering at the meticulously planned schedule; Alex takes his PA duties very serious, even on a day like this. 

Benedict nods along the things he's already done, either last night or this morning as the phone rings, making him jump a little. 

"Hello?" 

"Good morning Sunshine. Ready for your big day?" 

James is awfully cheerful, it makes Benedict smile a little wider. 

"Morning. No but now it's too late to back out, isn’t it?" 

"Yes, way too late. Listen, I'm just calling to remind you to-" 

"I know, I have a list here." 

"I know that, he knows that but he told me to call you anyway." 

"Can I talk to him? Only for a second?" 

"No. You'll get to talk to him when you're making your vows, not a second earlier." 

"You're the worst best man one can think of." 

"Yes, I've been told that already more than I can count today, thank you very much." 

"Serves you right for stealing my future husband." 

"I'm just making sure tradition is being upheld." 

"There's basically nothing traditional about this wedding, you know that." 

"Oi, hold your tongue, young man." 

"Alright, fine. Anything else?" 

James hesitates and Benedict can hear Alex's muffled voice before James shushes him again. 

"Yes. God, I can't believe I'm playing messenger now. He loves you. And he can't wait to marry to you. No, I'm not telling him _that_ , shut up." 

Benedict giggles happily as he hears Alex's muttered complains in the background. 

"I love him too. I'm counting the minutes." 

James makes a gagging noise. 

"Can't wait to return him to you, he's quite the pain in the ass. Okay, we'll see you later. Oh, don't forget-" 

"Yes, I know. See you soon." 

He ends the call only to jump again as the doorbell sounds. 

Checking the clock he curses softly, time's strange this morning. He hurries to open the door for Diane. 

As soon as she steps into his flat the rest of the morning flies by and before he knows it, he's in a car and on the way, his parents by his side, fussing over everything and nothing while the only thought in his head is Alex. 

He doesn't remember getting out of the car or how he got up on the hill, the only thing he can remember is he walks into the big pavilion, set up under a group of trees, closed towards the footpath but open towards London below, the sun reflecting brightly over the glass and steel constructions under a clear blue sky. 

It looks like a painting, and Benedict faintly thinks how perfect this very spot is. 

Waiting nervously at the side of the short aisle, he lets his eyes roam over the few people waiting impatiently, all beaming happily.  

His parents of course, his mum already dabbing at her eyes with a tissue while his dad is radiating a gentle calmness. 

Alex's sister, a softer version of her brother, and her husband. It's all Alex has left of his family and it shoots a sharp jolt of pain through Benedict's heart as he thinks that his parents can't be here to witness this. 

James stands next to Adam, and Benedict still can't fathom the fact that his best friend will be officiating today. 

On Adam's other side waits Marie, Alex's best friend and his maid of honour. 

Suddenly he feels a murmur of anticipation sweep through the space of the pavilion and all eyes are on him. Or rather on Alex who has just walked in, giving a little wave towards their friends. He hasn't seen Benedict yet and so he takes a step forward, stumbling out of the shadows he's been waiting in. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight of his soon to be husband. 

Alex looks stunning in his sky blue suit and matching shirt, his blond hair surrounding his glowing face in soft waves. He adjusts the small flower in his buttonhole before he looks up and gasps loudly. 

Wordlessly they look at each other, drinking in the sight of each other.

Benedict holds out a trembling hand and Alex lays his own in it, just as shaky as Benedict's. 

"You look-," Alex starts then swallows hard, "-God, you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen," he whispers as he closes the space between them, his other hand sneaking into Benedict's, squeezing so hard it almost hurts. 

Benedict has to clear his throat before he can even say a word, his chest feels too tight and his heart beats too fast. 

"No," he murmurs, gazing breathlessly at Alex, "that is you." 

The smile on Alex face is so radiant, Benedict has to close his eyes for a second, the sheer beauty of his fiancé is too much for him. 

Adam's loud "shall we?" tears them out of their haze and they turn towards him, walking down the aisle, hands tightly entwined, not for one second letting go. 

Everything blurs away for Benedict, he only has eyes for Alex, and his smile never once falters. He hears Adam talking but he doesn't really listen, he's revelling in the overwhelming realisation that this man will become his husband and that they will spend the rest of their lives together. 

Only as Alex squeezes his hand tightly, does his focus return to the here and now. 

"Your vows," Adam whispers, biting back a chuckle as Benedict stares at him in panic for a second before he remembers the words he's pondered over for what feels like ages. 

Exhaling deeply he locks his eyes with Alex's and quietly starts speaking. 

"Alex, I thought long about what to say today, how to put into words how you make me feel every single day but I really can't. Words fail me, and you know how rare that is."

He hears faint giggles and sees the corners of Alex's mouth twitch.

"But I'll try: You are my best friend and my greatest adversary. You are the sun in my day and the moon in my night. You guide me and you kick my arse when I need it. You are my backbone and my safe haven. You are my ally and my accomplice. You teach me things I never knew I needed to learn and you hold my hand and help me to accomplish them." 

He has to close his eyes for a moment and as he opens them again, his vision is blurry. Blinking, it clears again and he continues slowly. 

"I vow to try and be to you all that you are to me. Be there for you whenever you need me, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I gave you my heart a long time ago and you keep it safe, shelter it, and I promise to do the same with yours. Only with you I am complete, you make me whole." 

Alex's cheeks are glistening, silent tears falling from his shimmering eyes and Benedict instinctively wipes them away, resting his hand against the side of his face. 

"You're the love of my life, a love I never expected to find. Today I'm the luckiest man alive. I know it won't always be easy but know this: You are with me each day, you are here, in my head, in my heart. You are the stars I navigate home by, you keep me on course. I'd be lost without you." 

He lowers his head, squeezing his lids shut but the tears still escape, softly falling onto the grass  at his feet. 

Alex's grip on his hand is so hard it hurts but he doesn't care. He hears Adam clear his throat and then a gentle "Alex, your turn". 

Alex is quiet for a long while and only starts speaking as Benedict lifts his head, looking at him. 

"What am I supposed to say after this?" he asks in a low voice, quirking a tender smile at him. 

"Ben, when I met you, I knew I was lost, utterly and completely. And I didn't even know you then. It got worse every time we met, and one morning I woke up and said to myself 'Alex, you're deeply in love with a man who doesn't even like you that much'. I tried to hide it like I always do: with sarcasm and snarky comments. It didn't help. And then, miraculously, you opened up to me and suddenly there was hope. Hope that there was a chance for me. For us. You stole my heart. And you did the most wonderful thing: you took it in your beautiful large hands and held it gently, kept it safe from harm. And you gave me yours in return. And it changed me, _you_ changed me. You make me a better man. You bring out the best in me. You took me with all my faults and flaws and chose to love me anyway. I promise in every way possible to be worthy of your love. I will be by your side as long as I live and I will kick your arse as much as needed. I promise that I will be there for you whether it is to cheer you up or to celebrate with you. I will do anything to make our life together as perfect as possible. You know I'm great at that." 

Everyone laughs tenderly even though there are quiet sniffles among them. Benedict smiles at him through the tears in his eyes. 

But Alex isn't finished yet. 

"A great man once said: 'Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar but never doubt I love you'. Always remember that. Because I love you, with my body, my heart and my very soul." 

Benedict smiles briefly at the familiar lines but chokes heavily at the last words, Alex's swimming eyes the only thing he sees. 

Alex never takes his gaze off of him as Marie and James step closer and hand them the rings. 

Benedict holds his breath as Alex slips the cool metal band over his finger. His own hand trembles hard as he does the same for him. 

For a second his entire world stands still as Adam proudly declares them officially husbands. And then Alex's lips brush over his and nothing else exists but Alex's warm mouth against his, his hands in his, his nose brushing against his as he deepens the kiss for a second before he pulls back, beaming like the sun. 

Benedict knows the same smile lights up his face and as they turn towards their family and friends, he barely hears the applause. 

His mum is openly crying and even his dad hastily wipes his eyes before everyone jumps to their feet, cheering and congratulating them. 

It's a whirlwind of hugs and kisses, of claps on their shoulders and loud voices. 

The only thing anchoring Benedict is Alex's hand in his and the subtle weight of his wedding ring on his finger. 

*

An hour later they walk into the large ballroom of the hotel, being greeted by the loudest applause Benedict has ever heard and he actually flinches at the noise. 

"No need to be nervous anymore," Alex mutters in his ear as they walk towards the big table set up under the windows, "the worst is over, now it's only party." 

"And a speech, I fear," Benedict replies, relaxing a bit as they sit down. 

Alex huffs. 

"I won't hold one. Not until I'm drunk enough at least. I've done my duty when it comes to that already. Don't think I can handle much more.”

Benedict giggles happily. 

"Neither will I." 

"See, we're good. Let the others do some work for now. We’ll just sit back and enjoy our wedding day." 

And enjoy they do. 

There are indeed speeches, from Benedict's parents and Alex's sister, from the bridesmaid which makes Alex blush so deeply Benedict fears his head might explode, and from the best man which is so lovely Benedict has to wipe his eyes over and over until he finally stops, the smile on his face a sign of sheer joy. 

Finally the deeds are done and everyone sits back down to feast on the sumptuous wedding meal they decided on. 

Soft music is playing in the background, everyone's chatting and it finally hits Benedict: his life has just changed. He's not alone anymore, he has a husband now, is a husband himself. 

He looks over at Alex who's talking quietly to Marie, sat beside him. Sensing that he's being watched he looks up. When he sees Benedict's stunned face, he turns towards him, taking his hand.

"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," he asks, caressing Benedict's hand, unconsciously playing with the wedding band on his finger. 

"You're my husband," Benedict murmurs, his tone one of utter astonishment. 

Alex smiles widely as he reaches out and lays a hand on Benedict's cheek. 

"Yes I am. And you are mine. Till the day I die." 

His smile fades and is replaced by a look of such happiness which makes his entire face glow  lightly and Benedict's heart leaps at the sight. 

Wordlessly he leans over and kisses him gently, revelling in the knowledge that he can do this now whenever he wants to. 

"Hey, lovebirds, time for your first dance," James says, laying a hand on Benedict's shoulder. 

"Shit, I knew there was a hitch to the whole getting married thing," Alex jokes as he stands up. 

Benedict giggles helplessly as he stands as well and follows him onto the empty dance floor. 

"And since it's a special day for my two best friends," James announces, "I'll have the honour and the great pleasure to play for our newly weds." 

Both men look at him surprised. 

"Hey, you have your secrets, I have mine," James grins and walks over to the piano, hidden in a corner. Sitting down and stretching his hands, he nods at them. 

"Dance, you two." 

He starts playing, and both instantly recognise it, their heads whipping around and four eyes staring at him. 

James rolls his eyes, his grin widening. 

"Did you really think I don't know what your song is? Now dance, for Christ's sake, I will only play this once and then forget and never ever talk about it again," he glowers at them both and they hastily pull themselves together. 

"May I have this dance?" Alex asks, holding out his hands and Benedict lays his in them. 

"You may. And so much more," he whispers, sliding a hand around Alex's waist, twining his fingers with his as they start moving slowly. 

They barely notice the people around them, watching with teary eyes and happy faces, they have only eyes for one another. 

Everything is overly sharp, the touch of Alex's palm on his back, his warm fingers, his toned muscles moving beneath his own hand. 

"I love you," he whispers, his emotions bubbling up and he's not able to hold back the tears filling his eyes again. 

"I love you too," Alex replies quietly, kissing him quickly before he has to concentrate on his feet again. 

Swallowing around the lump in his throat Benedict gently starts guiding him and when the dance ends, they're chuckling together. 

"Told you, I'm a bad dancer, even Marie's lesson didn't help," Alex says as they stop.

"We'll have the rest of our lives to see to that," Benedict says jokingly and Alex kisses him again, deeply this time, not caring that everyone is watching and cheering. 

"A toast," someone calls and they walk back to their seats, raising their glasses. 

"To love," Alex says, never taking his eyes of Benedict. 

"To finding love when you least expect it," he adds, clinking his glass to Alex's. 

*

It's a wonderful reception. Nobody is mad for not being invited to the actual ceremony as they all know how difficult it would have been to keep it secret. Their friends all understand, and they are very grateful for that. 

It's already late when Karon appears at Benedict's side. 

"Do you two have a minute?" she asks softly.

"Yes, of course. The photos?" 

She nods and walks towards the side of the room where Helen has set up her camp, the laptop discreetly turned away from the dancing and laughing guests. Benedict motions Alex over and they follow her. 

"How's married life?" Helen asks fondly, hugging them both tightly. 

Benedict rolls his eyes. 

"We’ve only been married for about five hours." 

Helen shrugs and pats Benedict's cheek. 

"Sometimes that's enough to show the evil side of your husband." 

"Can't say he's evil... yet," Alex chimes in, ducking his head as Benedict glares at him. 

"Behave you or you’ll have to sleep in the sofa," he retorts teasingly. 

"Ah, the wonders of love," Helen says, turning the laptop towards them, becoming all business. 

"I included only these two from the actual ceremony, the rest are some random shots from the reception. Ten in total, I think that's more than enough. I also added a few lines, nothing too personal, only your names, the date and the occasion. For once they can do some research if they want to know who you are," she motions towards Alex, "oh, and I'll post a few more on Twitter and my blog if that's okay with you? For Ben's fans." 

Alex nods but Benedict is distracted by one photo: it shows Alex and him at the ceremony earlier, just as they exchanged the rings. It's taken from the side and Helen managed to capture bits of London in the photo. What makes Benedict choke though is the expression on both their faces: hopelessly in love, deeply trusting towards the other, a soft glow on both their faces. It takes his breath away and he mutely points at it, trying to say something but fails. 

Alex sees his struggle and steps closer to him, slipping his hand in his, squeezing it. 

"I know," he only whispers, "me too, my love, me too." 

His voice is thick with emotions and the two women exchange a knowing look as Benedict pulls Alex closer to kiss him deeply. 

Karon clears her throat after a bit and they pull back, smiling softly at one another. 

"They're outstanding," Benedict says, a deep gratitude seeping into his words, "thank you so very much, Helen, I don't know what to say." 

"Approve of them and you two are free to go again," she says dryly, ignoring the wetness in her own eyes. 

"We approve," Benedict croaks, leaning down and kissing Helen's cheek, "you're an angel." 

Helen snickers. 

"I'll remind you when I ask you to babysit the kids again." 

It makes Benedict laugh. 

"I'll remember that." 

"So," Karon interrupts, "this is it. Any last words before we're going to shock the world?" 

Alex and Benedict look at each other, wordlessly re-assuring one another that this is the right thing to do. 

"No last words. Do it," Alex says, brushing a strand of hair out of Benedict's face. 

"Well then. Send them out," Karons says to Helen. 

Two mouse-clicks and she leans back, a look of utter contentment on her face. 

"And that's done. I think, we just made history." 

Benedict exhales loudly; now there's no going back. Tomorrow their new life will start. 

For good and for bad. 

Alex nudges him in the side and he looks at him, a happy smile spreading over his face. 

He won't be alone. 

"Come on husband, let's work on those dancing skills of yours," he says, pushing the thoughts of the next days away. 

Today he's going to enjoy himself. 

Hand in hand they walk back onto the dance floor, the soft glow of being newly-weds surrounding them. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, the boys married.   
> There'll be an epilogue, set a year after this day.   
> Watch this space.   
> I'm also working on a few one shots - random moments from their life and will post them over the next weeks.   
> Thank you all for reading, leaving comments and Kudos, it's so much appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

"Happy anniversary."

Benedict blinks blearily, grunting at the too bright lights.

"Come on, wake up, love, I made you breakfast."

The low soothing voice has him shiver involuntarily and his arms are covered in goosebumps at the soft laugh right next to his ear.

"I'll never get over how bloody adorable you are when you've just woken."

The mattress dips and warm hands frame his face, shading it from the light.

Squinting he can make out the man watching him patiently, a loving expression on his handsome features.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Alex says, leaning down to kiss him gently.

His lips are soft and taste of coffee with too much sugar.

Benedict hums and manages to twine sleepy fingers into blond hair, pulling the other man against his chest.

Chuckling Alex settles next to him, his legs tangling with Benedict's whose morning erection presses against his thigh.

Benedict's hum becomes deeper, darker, more demanding, the drowsiness of his limbs gradually replaced by arousal as he slowly lets a hand wander over Alex's back until he can curl it over the perfect globe of his bum.

"Oh, that's the kind of breakfast you want, yes?" Alex murmurs in his ear, flicking his tongue over the shell.

Benedict gasps, a breathless little sound, hanging in the air between them.

He sighs quietly as warm lips move over the side of his neck, sucking softly, teeth scraping over his collarbone, biting gently.

"I had something else in mind though," Alex says casually, slipping his hand under the duvet, "want me to tell you?"

His nimble fingers find one nipple, circling it, and Benedict moans, arching into the gentle touch.

"I was thinking breakfast on the balcony," Alex continues calmly, his fingers expertly teasing first one then the other nipple, driving Benedict crazy with the barely there caress, "the weather is wonderful. After that," he pulls away a bit, pushing the duvet aside, "a walk up the Heath, you know, enjoying the view."

He leans back, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight of Benedict on the bed, eyes barely open, his lips parted, breathing rather heavily.

Alex falls silent for a moment, his gaze roaming over Benedict's body, his heaving chest, the sparse dark hair standing on end, the straining bulge in his boxer briefs.

"And then," Alex slides a fingertip lazily over the wide expanse of Benedict's torso, smiling, "I wanted to take you out for lunch somewhere nice, perhaps even buy you flowers. To celebrate, you know."

He bites his lip, the smile turning wicked as he runs his hand down Benedict's thigh, tilting his head as the man groans loudly.

"And tonight... well, that's a surprise so I'm not telling you that," he croons, shifting on the bed to run both hands firmly over Benedict's legs, the smile positively evil now.

"But it will involve you and me in well fitting suits, all prettied up and presentable," he says, fingertips sliding under the fabric of Benedict's pants, blunt nails scratching carefully over the thin skin of his groin.

"And when we come home, a tad tipsy perhaps, I had planned to kiss you senseless, right there in the hallway, with the door barely closed. Tousle that beautiful hair of yours, getting it all messy, and then I'm going to strip that tight suit off you, piece by piece and very slowly. All the while kissing you, of course, getting you all worked up and desperate."

Alex grins and crawls between Benedict's legs who spreads them involuntarily, his darkened eyes glued to Alex's face who in turn watches his own hands, toying with the waistband of Benedict's underwear.

"And just when I had you all naked and needy and pleading I would have told you that I've been preparing myself all evening," he pins Benedict's hips with his hands, pressing him hard into the mattress and leans down, carefully avoiding touching Benedict's straining erection, "I know you know about the toybox in the cupboard."

The sound Benedict makes is raw and strangled and before Alex can even blink, Benedict's strong arms wrap around him and with a animalistic groan he flips them over, pressing the entire length of his body against Alex's.

"You," Benedict growls, his voice husky from sleep, "are going to regret this."

Every word is punctuated with a tilt of his hip, grinding against Alex's cock, hard and throbbing after his own merciless teasing.

"Empty promises," Alex huffs although his body betrays him, arching against the smooth hardness of the other man.

"I do not make empty promises," Benedict grits out, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Alex's neck, sucking hard.

Alex's hands dig into Benedict's shoulders, pulling him closer so he can bite his earlobe.

"Empty. Promises," he purrs, grinning as Benedict growls again. It's one of his favourite sounds in the world; making the man lose control like this is his favourite thing to do.

Benedict lifts up so he can look him in the face, and Alex's breath hitches in anticipation: Benedict's usually clear eyes burn fiery, his pupils wide, drowning out the undefinable colour of his iris. His brows are drawn together and there's a dangerous smile dancing over his full lips. A small bead of sweat is making its way down the side of his face and Alex isn't thinking as he leans up and licks it away, moaning quietly at the taste.

It's all it takes to have Benedict lurch down, his mouth finding Alex's instantly, his tongue plunging deep inside, kissing him with a fierce hunger that has Alex's head swimming. He's clinging to him, returning the kiss as good as he can. When they part, he's panting and a bit dizzy.

"That's just the start," Benedict snarls hoarsely.

Before Alex can ask, Benedict is biting, kissing and licking his way down his body, not bothering with taking off Alex's shorts: his skilful fingers just push them aside and then his mouth closes over his throbbing cock.

Alex cries out, bucking his hips into the welcomed heat, his hands fumbling for a hold and settle in Benedict's dishevelled hair.

Alex can feel him smile before he bites down, carefully, and Alex whimpers helplessly as he starts moving, sliding fierce and relentless over his length. Benedict moans, long and deliberate, knowing exactly what the reverberating sound does to Alex.

Grabbing a handful of Benedict's hair, Alex thrusts up, groaning as Benedict's lips close harder around him, taking him all the way in, his forearm settling over Alex's stomach, stopping him from going too far.

Benedict hums, the tip of his tongue fluttering over the sensitive head and Alex whines as he swirls it around slowly, teasing him.

Alex is babbling uselessly, everything around him disappears, all there is for him is Benedict's mouth, wet and perfect friction, long lazy fingers trailing over his balls and further down. Benedict's still humming softly and it's driving Alex insane, the low sound filling his ears, his body, his mind, and then he's falling, flying, dissolving into pieces.

Afterwards he isn't sure whether or not he was screaming, there is an echo ringing in his ears but he doesn't bother finding out. Benedict's mouth is still around him, licking him clean until Alex flinches and Benedict pulls off, propping his chin on Alex's hip, peering up at him from under tousled hair.

"Good morning," he whispers breathlessly, “and happy anniversary,” and pushes a ginger curl out of his eyes.

Despite the haze Alex is in and the boneless feeling in his limps he reaches out, beckoning Benedict up, and he complies, clambering up until he's lying next to Alex, a shaky smile on his glistening lips.

Alex rolls over to kiss him, kiss his own taste of those beautiful lips and Benedict moans softly, his aching cock throbbing painfully against Alex's quivering thigh.

"Very happy indeed," Alex murmurs, slipping his hand between them and closes it around Benedict's hardness, revelling in the wonderful feeling of silky skin over pulsing desire.

He's staring into Benedict's face as he starts stroking, drinking in every tiny gasp, memorising all the not so quiet noises he makes. Benedict's lids flutter and then close only to snap open a second later, intensely burning eyes locking with Alex's greedy gaze.

"Yes," Alex mutters, a deep longing cursing through his veins, "let me see you, let me see you come."

Benedict arches into him, his stormy eyes endlessly deep, and then he cries out, pulsing his release into Alex's strong hand, his entire body shaking in ecstasy.

"Gorgeous," Alex mumbles, "so fucking gorgeous."

He eases him through until the shudders subside and the man lies still, sucking gulps of air into his lungs.

Alex watches him hazily, a wondrous smile flickering over his lips. The expression on Benedict's face takes his breath away: the endless love he can see is blinding, making Benedict's features glow ethereally and Alex's heart stops at the sight before it hammers away again.

"God, you're so beautiful," Alex whispers around the sudden lump in his throat, "... and you're mine."

He needs to say it out loud; sometimes he still can't believe it.

"Yours," Benedict says slowly, "and you're mine."

He leans closer and kisses him, languid and loving, all the wildness gone and replaced by a gentle yet urgent craving.

"Have I told you today how much I love you?" Alex mutters against his lips, and Benedict chuckles quietly.

"I think we established that just now," he replies, running a finger along Alex's side, down from his neck to his hip.

"We definitely did," Alex replies, curling around Benedict's pliant body.

They lie in silence, wrapped up in one another until a low rumbling has them look at each other, amused.

"Didn't you say something about breakfast?" Benedict asks, rubbing a hand over his stomach.

"I did," Alex says and untangles himself reluctantly, "although I think the coffee's cold by now."

"As long as it's coffee, I'll take it," Benedict grumbles, scrambling out of bed, scrunching his nose as he looks down at himself.

"Shower," he declares, waggling his eyebrows at Alex, "care to join me?"

"How can I say no to such an offer," Alex grins and shucks his soiled shorts.

*

"So, what's the surprise?" Benedict asks, munching on his toast.

Alex laughs and shakes his head.

"If I tell you it isn't a surprise anymore."

Benedict makes a face but lets it go; he knows it's useless to pry things from his husband if he doesn't want to tell him. He'd learned that very early on.

"Oh look, the media sends their best wishes for our first anniversary," Alex says sarcastically, holding up the newspaper he's been reading.

Benedict snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Nice, so people start harassing us today? Very considerate of them."

He mutters curses under his breath, a dark cloud flickering over his face.

Alex leans over, laying a hand on his cheek.

"Hey, nobody's going to harass us today. They got over it ages ago."

Benedict looks up, the sadness in his eyes making Alex's stomach turn.

"Did they?"

Despite the sting in his heart, Alex nods.

"Yes," he says assertively, caressing Benedict's cheek, "of course. It's old news. Look, you've still got more work than you can manage and-"

"Don't," Benedict says, "not today, 'kay? I don't want to spoil our anniversary with shit like this. I want to have a lovely day with my lovely husband."

Alex nods mutely.

"Okay."

Silence falls and Alex tries desperately to think of something to take Benedict's mind of the memories he knows are running through his mind.

 

It had been a hard time, this time last year; Alex remembers it just too well.

They had gone on a short honeymoon, mostly to escape the incredible frenzy their wedding had caused all over the world.

They had known what they were doing and yet they hadn't imagined the utter madness that had followed.

His phone hadn't stop buzzing and he had been glad that most things had gone to his and not Benedict's - the man would've gone mad over it.

Alex had kept the worst things from him, the wish to protect him so fierce it had taken over everything he did.

Which lead to their first fight, just after they made their way through the wild paparazzi that awaited them at the airport upon their return. A few yelled -very rude- accusations had been the spark. Alex had known about it but Benedict had been absolutely clueless. He had ignored them but he had been tense for the rest of their ride back home and as soon as they were in private he exploded like nothing Alex had seen before.

They were barely back in their flat when he started to yell at him for letting him run into them like that, unprepared and helpless. First Alex had been shocked but then he had yelled back.

It hadn't lasted long and they ended up on the floor of the sitting room, naked and sweating and covered in bitemarks and scratches.

Alex still grins when he thinks about it: best make-up sex he'd ever had.

After that he had stopped trying to keep things from Benedict.

Still, it had been a tough time for their marriage and Alex is still glad they made it through it without actual damage.

Personal attacks, nasty rumours, old pictures even Benedict didn't know existed - the press -for once- tried to do their homework, dug up everything they could use to ruin Benedict's reputation.

But they forgot the one crucial force that had given him the status he still inhibited: Benedict's fans.

Yes, he lost a few but the majority stood behind him and fought like a lioness for the man they loved and adored.

Alex is still overwhelmed with the selfless love Benedict's fandom displayed back then - and still does these days, tireless and very vocal.

He'd seen many angry letters to the papers, campaigns on every social media platform to boycott the media whenever they published one bad word about either of them or their marriage, and they had drowned in gifts and wedding presents sent to Benedict's agency and some even to their flat.

It had helped them both even though - as Benedict had predicted - the job offers had stagnated. Nevertheless he was able to secure a few projects - nothing major but still enough to keep himself occupied.

And of course there was still his production company which also kept him busy even if it was only behind the camera.

Every now and then his agents sent a script but after a quick glance at it, Benedict tossed it in the bin, refusing to talk about it.

Alex let him. He couldn't do anything. They had to have patience and just wait for it all to blow over and for normality to return.

Benedict was an outstanding actor, the best of his generation, the row of awards on their bookshelf was proof and that was something not to be ignored. Not in the long run.

Alex knew that just yesterday another script had found its way into their rubbish and Benedict had been grumpy for the rest of the day. There's nothing Alex can do. For now it's just wait and see and hope.

 

Sighing Alex leans back, pushing those thoughts violently to the back of his mind. Closing his eyes, he lets the early spring sun warm his face.

It's their anniversary - a reason to celebrate, not to worry.

The quiet buzz of Benedict's phone has him glance over. It has to be one of his friends; Alex has rerouted all business calls and messages to his own phone.

And indeed, there's a soft smile on Benedict's face as he taps out a short answer before he tosses the phone back on the table.

"James says hi and sends congratulations," he says, the frown on his forehead slowly fading.

Alex only smiles and nods, making a mental note to thank James personally later.

"Alright," Benedict props his elbows on the table, looking at Alex, "didn't you say something about a walk?"

Alex's smile widens.

"I did, yes. Are you up for that? If you'd rather stay in today..."

Benedict shakes his head and stands, stretching; Alex can hear the kinks crack in his back.

"Nah, I'm not hiding. Not today. Don't want to let them win," he murmurs, ruffling a hand through his tousled hair, "the weather is too bloody nice."

Alex doesn't hear him: he's distracted by the sight of his husband.

The ratty shirt he's wearing rides up high and reveals his rippled stomach, flat and hard beneath pale smooth skin. His shorts are sitting dangerously low on his hipbones; he's lost a some weight over the winter and all his clothes are a bit too wide now. It would take only one gentle tug and they'd be on the floor, pooling around his ridiculously small ankles, and showing off the incredible length of his toned legs.

"Alex? Hello, earth to husband? You still there?"

Alex's head snaps up, meeting Benedict's amused gaze.

"You okay?" he asks, the crinkles around his multicoloured eyes deepening as he leans down to check on him.

Alex nods hazily.

"Hm, yes, sorry, I got a bit distracted there," he croaks, clearing his throat and shifts in his seat.

Benedict's eyes narrow knowingly as he takes in Alex's tensing figure, his increasing breath and the tell tale outline in his shorts.

"Ah."

His voice drops and Alex swallows hard as he sees his eyes flaring up, a hungry glint in their blue-green depth.

"Do I distract you then?" he purrs darkly as he rounds the table slowly, never taking his eyes off Alex.

"A little," Alex replies hoarsely, his half hard cock twitching and hardening further as Benedict reaches him and slides effortlessly in his lap, his long legs bracketing Alex's thighs, his weight settling only inches away from his suddenly throbbing erection.

"Only a little?" Benedict asks, slowly licking his lips, his hands closing around the armrests of the chair.

Alex nods wordlessly, his mouth too dry to answer.

"Then let me distract you a little more, shall I?" Benedict murmurs, leaning forward and sealing his mouth over Alex's who groans helplessly as Benedict's tongue slips instantly inside, ravishing his mouth like there's no tomorrow.

His fingers find their way into Alex's hair, pulling him even closer as he deepens the kiss.

When he breaks away he looks as flustered as Alex feels: his high cheekbones slightly coloured, his lips parted and glistening wet, his breathing harsh.

Alex stares up at him, gasping for air and for a moment taken aback at the unfiltered emotions washing over him at the sight.

"I love you," he whispers tonelessly, pushing his hand under Benedict's shirt, sighing wistfully at the warm smoothness of his skin.

"I love you too," is Benedict's hoarse reply, his deep baritone causing a full on body shudder in Alex.

He tangles his shaking hands in Benedict's hair and pulls him back into a searing kiss and for a while there's no more talking.

Just greedy hands, needy kisses and rough moans, echoing in the warm spring air.

"Lie down," Alex groans, barely able to think straight as he pushes Benedict up so he can stand on shaky legs.

The man casts a quick look around the terrace, quirking a curious eyebrow at Alex.

"Here," he murmurs, throwing a few big cushions on the ground, "and don't you dare move."

He waits a few seconds for Benedict to elegantly lower himself onto the makeshift mattress before he rushes inside, shucking his own shirt on the way to the bedroom.

Grabbing the lube from the nightstand he races back outside, almost falling over his feet as he stumbles back onto the terrace.

And there he stops dead, all the air in his lungs escaping in one long whoosh.

Benedict's lying naked on his back, eyes closed, one arm under his head, the other gliding aimlessly over his body.

Alex can see the goosebumps on his skin, can see the little hair on his arms and legs stand on end, shimmering golden in the sunlight, enveloping him in an unearthly aura.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Alex mutters under his breath, not able to move. He keeps staring as Benedict's slender fingers wander from his stomach to his straining erection, caressing it, moaning quietly at his own touch.

As much as it makes Alex's blood boil with longing, he can't help but watch, wanting to keep this moment forever: Benedict looks completely carefree, an absent smile lingering on his lips, the sunlight dancing over his light skin, bronze and amber sparks flash from his short hair. Right here, on their balcony, he feels absolutely safe, can be himself. Alex can almost see it, it's emitting from his bared body and in his utter loss of any constraint or restriction he puts on himself as soon as he leaves their flat.

Benedict blinks lazily, a bright smile flickering over his face as he sees Alex standing in the doorway.

"You going to keep standing there?" he rasps, closing his hand harder around himself, stroking once, twice. The low moan tumbling from his lips sets Alex in motion again.

Stumbling over, he falls on his knees next to Benedict and without a word he pops open the lube, coating his fingers.

The smile on Benedict's face turns malicious as he spreads his legs, giving Alex the access he needs. Tilting his hips upward he locks eyes with Alex who slips a trembling hand between Benedict's thighs. The man gasps loudly as Alex starts preparing him, never once taking his eyes away from him. He's still kneeling next to him, his entire body shaking with an urgent craving, his head swimming with the desire to bury himself as deep as possibly in Benedict's warm body.

"Christ, Alex, please... now," Benedict keens, his fingers pawing weakly at Alex's arms, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin. Heavy shudders wreck his body, his head lolling about the cushions, the tendons on his neck standing out like chords.

Alex nods and crawls in between Benedict's parted legs, the needy sounds he makes driving him crazy with longing.

He slicks himself and slowly lines up, pushing carefully inside, making Benedict claw at his back, scraping his nails over his shoulders.

"Yes, god, yes," he mutters, groaning loudly as Alex settles with a deep moan, his head dropping onto Benedict's chest to gain his breath.

"So tight," he babbles, "so hot, so... ooooh."

Benedict clenches around him, making him whine loudly.

"Take me," Benedict murmurs against Alex's temple, "make me yours again."

Alex whimpers: Benedict's voice is pure sex, dark and seductive and intoxicating.

He moves. Slowly at first but quickly his body is taking over and he's thrusting into the velvet heat, moaning Benedict's name over and over.

In turn, Benedict's meeting every single thrust, gasping whenever Alex hits his prostate, making him twitch and shudder beneath him.

"My love, my darling, my wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous husband," Alex can't keep the words inside, they flow on their own accord and Benedict reacts to every single one of them with the most delicious groans.

Sweat's slicking their motions and soon Alex's tethering on the edge, all his nerves buzzing in anticipation of his orgasm. Benedict has one hand buried in Alex's hair, the other one wretched between them, working himself furiously. He lets out a choked off groan, his head falls back and he comes hot and furious between their bodies. Alex watches him, he can't look away, the expression on Benedict's face is utterly mesmerising, lips parted as he gasps and whimpers in ecstasy, his curls plastered to his forehead, his eyes wide open yet unseeing as he loses himself, fingers tightening painfully in Alex's hair and he arches against him, the muscles inside him clamping hard around Alex.

It's all Alex needs: hot waves washing over him, and he falls apart, growling loudly until Benedict's mouth covers his, swallowing his cries, kissing them away.

Alex collapses on top of him, boneless and shivering in the afterglow.

It takes a moment to realise that Benedict's mumbling in his ear, chasing more shivers down his spine.

"I love you, so very much, my incredible, marvellous husband."

Alex's throat closes up and he buries his face against Benedict's neck, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears he can feel welling up.

Benedict wraps his arms around him, pressing him closely against his chest and they just lie there, warm and sated in the morning sun.

Eventually Alex has to move, making Benedict protest weakly as he slips out and off him, falling in his back next to him.

"I hope the neighbours didn't hear that," he says after a while, quirking a weary grin into the blue sky above him.

Benedict's rich rumbling laughter is the most beautiful sound in the world, and he moans quietly.

"Seriously, can you stop that?" he complains, arching his back, "I'm already worn out and you keep on teasing me."

Benedict rolls on his side, kissing the spot where Alex's heart is slowly returning to its normal pace.

"Not my fault when you're so easy to tease," he replies, resting his head on Alex's shoulder.

"Hmpf," Alex says sleepily, pure joy filling his entire being and he's content just lying there, Benedict's sharp scent in his nose and his damp skin against his fingertips.

*

They eventually make it out of the flat, leisurely wandering down the street towards Hampstead Heath. With nowhere else to be and all the time in the world, they simply enjoy the sunny and peaceful day. The Heath is blessedly empty when they stroll along the paths, fingers tightly entwined, chatting about everything and nothing.

Benedict's wearing his cap and the glasses, "just in case" and he lowers his head whenever they pass other people.

"You do know that never actually works," Alex says, squirming away when Benedict nudges him with his elbow.

"I can keep trying," he replies stubbornly but his eyes are twinkling and he's permeating a relaxed vibe.

"That you can."

Alex wants to add more but they've just reached the peak of the small hill and something at the edge of the path catches his eye.

Pulling Benedict along, he walks over to get a closer look.

Just at the spot where he kissed Benedict the very first time, and where they got married one year ago is a huge pile of flowers, lovingly arranged around a sign with a small heart on it. Alex bends down, squinting at it.

'BC and AE' is carefully written inside the heart.

"Look at this," Alex says but Benedict has already spotted it. He's crouched down, reading some of the cards, tucked inside bunches of flowers and other small gifts.

Every single one is a congratulation, an encouragement, a well wish, all of them speaking of love, understanding and support.

Alex sits down in front of it, legs crossed, just letting his gaze roam over it all, drinking it in, and he smiles.

Benedict's wandering along the wide selection of basically every flower Alex can think of, astonishment and wonder on his face. Every now and then he squats down, picking up a letter or a card, reading it before he carefully puts it back. Eventually he turns towards Alex, the expression on his face one of utter awe.

"Is this your doing?" he asks in a tone that indicates he's certain it's not but he has to ask anyway.

Alex shakes his head, smiling softly.

"No, I had no idea. Looks like your fans are rather good at putting together an anniversary present for you."

"It's fantastic," Benedict says as he gracefully sits down next to Alex.

Silently they sit in the grass, equally amazed, each caught in their own thoughts while London's skyline is blinking brightly below them.

"Excuse me," a female voice from behind says, and they turn towards a small woman, a bunch of flowers in her hand.

Her eyes widen fractionally and Alex tenses immediately, knowing that look just too well but he feels Benedict's hand on his arm, squeezing reassuringly.

"Yes?" he says, smiling up at her.

"I'm sorry, you probably just want to be left alone but I just wanted to congratulate you. Happy anniversary," she says shyly.

"Thank you very much," Benedict says, standing up and motioning at all the flowers, "do you perhaps happen to know whose idea this was?"

She blushes heavily.

"Some fans organised it, online," she replies, peeking up at Benedict, "do you like it?"

The smile on his face is blinding and the woman actually gasps. Alex has to bite back a grin.

"I love it," Benedict says and before the woman can even move, he has enveloped her in a tight hug, "thank you, we're absolutely delighted. Can you please pass that on?"

She nods mutely, twiddling the flowers in her hand, visibly torn between handing them over to Benedict or to putting them with the others.

Alex jumps to his feet, winking at her.

"Are they for us, too?" he asks, motioning towards her flowers and smiles widely as she nods.

"Would you mind if I borrow them?" he asks, "I've promised to buy him some and those look much better than the ones I had in mind."

Her mouth forms a little 'oh' and her gaze flickers between Benedict and Alex back and forth before she hands the flowers over, a shaky smile forming on her lips.

"Thanks," Alex says, turning towards Benedict and with flourish falls on his knees, holding the bunch up to him.

Benedict briefly glares at him and Alex suppresses a giggle.

'You have an audience, behave' he mouths tonelessly, wiggling the flowers and Benedict eventually takes them, smiling gently.

"They're beautiful," he says to the woman, ignoring Alex's choked off laughter, "they'll get a special place."

She stammers a little, shock clearly written all over her face before she pulls herself together and thanks them. Then she turns, walking down the hill, casting glances back every now and then.

"You're an evil bastard," Benedict says as he's sure she can't hear them anymore.

"What?" Alex laughs, "she's going to be flying high for at least a week that you took her flowers. And she's got lots of stories to tell. Believe me, she's a happy girl right now."

Benedict grumbles under his breath but Alex kisses him softly, running a hand through his hair.

"No grumbles today," he says sternly, kissing him again for good measure.

"Come on, I've got a table reserved for lunch."

*

The day flies by in a blur. Alex takes him to his favourite restaurant where they run into James and his wife and they spend the afternoon laughing and chatting until Alex excuses them, shooing Benedict out the door and back home.

"So," he says, rubbing his hands as Benedict flops on the sofa, pleasantly full and a bit sleepy.

Benedict eyes him lazily.

"I have the feeling a nap's out of the question, huh?" he says, equally amused and amazed at the endless energy Alex has.

Casting a glance at his watch Alex ponders.

"A short one is doable," he says, kicking off his shoes and falls next to Benedict on the sofa, who instantly curls around him, sighing happily.

"I liked today," he murmurs, "will I get that every year now?"

"If you're nice," Alex grins, wrapping his arms around Benedict and soon they're both dozing off.

*

It feels as if he's slept only five minutes as Alex wakes him again.

"Come on, love, there's a surprise waiting for you," Alex murmurs, poking Benedict's side who huffs tiredly into the cushions.

"It'd better be a good one," he complains as he heaves himself up and in direction of the bedroom to get dressed.

Alex insists on them both wearing their best suits, and after a moment of consideration Benedict decides on his wedding suit. If not today, when then? he thinks as he slips into the trousers, making a content sound as they close without a hitch. He was worried that they wouldn't fit anymore but they still do: like a glove. A simple white t-shirt under the jacket completes his outfit.

Humming softly under his breath he rummages through his shoe cabinet, giggling with delight as his fingers touch sequin covered leather.

"Why the hell not," he mumbles to himself and pulls them out.

Alex's voice drifts over from the sitting room and Benedict checks himself quickly in the mirror before he strolls back.

"Have you seen... Wow, you... uh... " Alex stutters as Benedict enters the room. He stares at him, eyes wide, mouth open. Benedict has the feeling he knows exactly how he feels. He is also speechless: Alex is wearing a new grey suit, perfectly tailored, with a light blue t-shirt peeking out from under the jacket, enhancing his broad shoulder.

Benedict swallows hard as he lets his gaze slide over his husband before he meets his eyes.

"You look fantastic," he says lowly, his heart fluttering as Alex smiles at him.

"So do you," he replies, holding out a hand which Benedict takes.

"Gorgeous," Alex murmurs, leaning in to kiss him gently.

Breaking the kiss, Benedict lets his fingertips trail over the lapels of Alex's suit.

"So, where are you taking me that we have to suit up like this?" he asks, curiosity audible in his voice.

Alex tilts his head, running a hand through Benedict's hair, cupping his face gently.

"Right now, I'd love to take you to bed," he murmurs and then shakes himself visibly, letting go of him and takes a step back.

"Sorry but in that suit you're doing all kinds of things to me," he admits, adjusting himself in the tight trousers.

Benedict groans lowly, shifting a little.

"Same here."

They stare at each other, tension building in the air between them, crackling like lightning during a storm.

The buzz of Alex's phone breaks it and with a regretful sigh Alex pulls the mobile out and glances at it.

"Time to go," he announces.

"You're not telling me, are you?" Benedict asks as they leave the flat.

"No," Alex says, the teasing grin returning to his face, "you'll see when we're there."

He motions towards a car, waiting at the curb, motor idling.

"Our ride for the evening."

Benedict raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything as he opens the backdoor, sliding on the backseat of the Rolls Royce.

Alex follows, nodding at the driver who wordlessly steers the car away from the pavement.

Leaning back in the comfortable seats, Benedict watches the streets pass by. Soon they enter Central London with all its bright lights and blinking signs. He tries to figure out where they're driving but Alex turns his face towards him, shaking his head.

"Surprise, okay?"

His tone has an odd edge and Benedict frowns at him, confused.

"Alex?" he asks carefully, "everything okay?"

Smiling the man nods, kissing him, softly first and then he deepens it, moaning quietly against Benedict's mouth, effectively distracting him.

"Sir," the driver interrupts, "we're here."

"Thank you Thomas. Come on."

Alex hops out of the car, waiting impatiently for Benedict to follow him.

Looking around he notices certain familiar spots but Alex takes his hand and pulls him along and through an unmarked door into a large building.

They walk through a few dim hallways before they come into a darkened auditorium and suddenly Benedict knows where they are.

"Alex, what are we-?"

"Surprise," Alex says, beaming widely, pulling Benedict along the aisle and onto the stage where a table is set up, beautifully laid and illuminated by candles.

A butler stands a bit aside, nodding calmly at them both.

Benedict looks around, taking in the well known shape of the stage, memories flooding his brain as he wanders along the wooden floor.

He gets lost in his head for a moment and only Alex's warm hand in his pulls him back into the here and now.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing at the table, "I've arranged dinner."

"What? Here? Why?" Benedict asks as they walk back and Alex holds the chair for him.

"I have my reasons," Alex says mysteriously, sitting down himself.

Out of the blue plates appear in front of them with a deliciously looking entrée, their glasses are filled with wine before the silent shadow vanishes again.

"How did you manage this?" Benedict asks after the first bite.

"Rufus is an old friend of mine," Alex says, blushing a bit, "didn't take much to convince him. I wanted something special for our first anniversary."

"It's very special," Benedict agrees, looking around the empty theatre, inhaling its typical smell, a wistful sigh escapes his lips.

"Plus, this is not the entire surprise," Alex adds, waving the butler over who hands him an envelope.

"This is the main reason I wanted us to be here," Alex says as he lays it on the table, leaning back in his seat and watching attentively as Benedict takes it, turning it over in his hands.

"Open it."

Benedict does, and pulls out a thick script.

Reading the title his eyes widen almost comically and he inhales sharply. Looking up at Alex questioningly, Alex nods.

"Yes, it's exactly what it says. It's been a pain in the ass to keep that from you until today, your agents almost killed me for wanting to wait to let you know. So you don't have much time to decide."

Benedict's eyes flicker between him and the precious script in his hands back and forth, his mouth opening and closing yet there are no words.

Alex snickers and reaches over the table, taking Benedict's hand in his.

"You don't have to decide today. Read it, consider it, talk it through, either with me or someone else and then make a decision. I know how much you suffer from not being able to work like you're used to but this could be a turning point. If you say yes, there is also an option for more. They want to see how the first run turns out and decide then. But I'm certain you're going to work this stage for quite some time in the future. One book every year, that's the plan."

He falls silent, letting Benedict process his words.

"This is the one script I've been wanting all my life" he says very quietly, his tone hopeful yet unbelieving.

"I know. This could be a new beginning," Alex says, caressing his hand.

"I wouldn't have to travel for this," Benedict muses slowly, "I could be home in the evening. And you wouldn't-"

"Have to travel that far to be by your side, to see you work," Alex ends the sentence, winking, "don't even think about me staying at home, waiting for you. I'll be here with you, pretending to work behind the scenes and in reality staring at my brilliant husband doing the most incredible role of his life."

Benedict laughs, reaching out to take Alex's hands and kisses his knuckles.

"Looks like I don't really have a choice, do I? You've got it already plotted out perfectly. Although, it might get boring after a few times, you know. Theatre is different, performances don't usually change. I can imagine, you'd be fed up after seeing the same thing over and over again."

Alex shakes his head and stands, rounding the table and pulls Benedict up and in his arms.

"I don't think so. I will never get tired of watching you. Seeing you work, slipping into another man's skin and bringing him to life? It's the most marvellous thing to watch. It's breathtaking. _You_ are breathtaking. I have to admit, I had to do some homework on that," he nods towards the script on the table, "but after I've flipped through it I can't imagine anyone else for that role. You're going to be fantastic and you're going to blow the critic's minds."

Sighing wistfully Benedict wraps his arms around Alex's waist, resting his head on his shoulder.

"It's a pretty intense role and I'm not entirely certain-"

"Hush. It's tailor-made for you. If you decide to take it, they're going to throw awards at you, bisexual or not. They won't care anymore, they'll see how fucking talented you are, nothing else will matter."

Benedict considers it; he knows the books by heart and he's certain he can do exactly what he's always had in mind when thinking about playing that particular role. He's seen the name of the director for the play: he knows he'll be able to bring a lot of his own ideas into it.

"I'll think about it," Benedict says, brushing a quick kiss over Alex's mouth, "thank you. It's the most wonderful gift."

"And it's not the only one I have for you," Alex says, letting go of him and they sit back down.

"Good lord, you're spoiling me. And I haven't even given you yours" Benedict snickers, his eyes twinkling happily in the candle light.

"Well, you deserve being spoiled. And I already had mine. This morning. Twice," Alex replies cheekily, reaching under his seat and lays a wrapped package in between their plates.

"The script and this," he waves a hand around the theatre, "that's mainly from your agency even though I helped it along a little. This one though," he points at the present on the table, "this is my personal one," he says softly, waiting patiently for Benedict to unwrap it and reveal a simple black picture frame.

"Turn it around."

Benedict does and then gasps loudly, staring motionlessly at the drawing.

"Remember when you had to wait around ages at that mediocre film last autumn? Just sitting in your chair for hours, listening to your music? You were so lost in your own head and god, you looked so damn beautiful. I just couldn't resist."

"Alex, I... wow..." Benedict stutters and then falls silent, blinking rapidly, his throat clicking as he swallows hard.

He remembers the situation Alex means and he'd even seen him, sitting half in the shadows, deeply absorbed in whatever he was doing - drawing him, apparently.

He can't take his eyes off of the intricate pencil work; he knew that Alex had a talent for it but he's never seen anything like this.

Trailing a gentle finger over the complex black and white drawing, he can almost feel the love, can see it in the delicate lines and the incredible details.

Usually very self-conscious when it comes to images of himself, he feels nothing but wonder when he looks at this portrait of himself.

"If I ever have to choose between the most intriguing script and this, it won't be a hard choice to make," he croaks, swallowing around the lump in his throat and carefully sets down the frame, unconsciously caressing it over and over.

"This will forever be the one thing I'll need in my life. I don't know what to say. Thank you is just too weak a wording for something so outstanding and magnificent."

There are tears shimmering in his eyes and Alex feels a burn behind his lids as he smiles blindly at Benedict.

Leaning over he kisses him, sweet and loving and for a while nothing else exists but them, kissing on an empty stage.

"Lets eat before it all gets cold," Alex murmurs as he breaks the kiss, sitting back and discreetly wiping his eyes.

They eat quietly; the entrée gets replaced with a tasty main course, followed by the most amazing desert, all served by their silent waiter, appearing out of the shadows, swiftly taking away empty plates and replacing them with more delicacies.

At some point, the quietness of the large auditorium becomes too much and Alex pulls out his phone - and now there's soft music playing, echoing around the deserted seats.

The butler has cleared the table, only left a carafe with a delicious wine and a pot with coffee before he tips his head and vanishes into the darkness behind the stage, leaving the two men alone.

Benedict's nursing his second coffee, watching Alex who's flipping through his script, a concentrated expression on his face and Benedict is happy just watching him.

The currently playing song stops and there's a brief pause before the next one starts, filling the room with the clear sound of violins.

Alex looks up, smiling and meeting Benedict's sparkling eyes; they both know the song just too well.

Benedict tilts his head, then says:

"Dance with me," already standing up.

Alex shakes his head, laughing quietly but pushes his chair back as well.

"My dancing skills haven't much improved as you very well know," he chuckles as he takes Benedict's outstretched hand.

"You have no idea how little I care," Benedict replies, beaming as he starts swaying slowly, Alex's body pressed tightly against his.

Wordlessly they move around the empty stage, giggling when Alex stumbles over his own feet and when the song stops they just keep on dancing, back and forth until they're out of breath and have to stop.

"You'll have to think really really hard to top this wedding anniversary next year," Benedict mumbles, burying his face in Alex's silky hair.

"I might have some ideas already," is his low reply.

Benedict's laugh is rough and suddenly all Alex wants is to go home and undress him, slowly, worship his body and take him apart, over and over so he can put him back together only with his hands and lips.

"Can we go home?" Benedict asks wistfully, almost as if reading Alex's thoughts.

"I thought, you'd never ask."

*

They barely make it as far as the sitting room, and it's slowly getting light outside when they find themselves out on the terrace again, snuggled naked under the thick blanket from the sofa. Both are tired but neither of them wants to break the magic of the very early morning and so they stay where they are, tightly wrapped around each other, watching sleepily how the sky turns from black to blue.

"What about my present?" Alex asks drowsily, not bothering to open his eyes. He's teetering on the edge of sleep and only Benedict's deep rumbling chuckle has him force his heavy lids open to look at him.

"Do you really want me to get up now and get it for you?"

Alex ponders that and then shakes his head.

"Nah, you can give it to me tomorrow."

"It _is_ tomorrow," Benedict deadpans, making them both laugh.

"Later then. Which is fine. Right now I have everything I need."

Benedict hums approvingly, cuddling closer, lazily kissing Alex's neck, nosing against his skin and purring happily.

"So do I," he mutters, yawning quietly.

"We should go to bed," Alex suggests, not moving a muscle to follow up his words.

"Not yet," Benedict murmurs, tightening his grip around the other man.

"'kay."

They fall asleep minutes later, safely in each other's arms, their hearts beating in sync as the sun slowly starts to rise above London.

***

And this is it.

Alex's and Benedict's story is told.

How they met.

How they fell in love.

How they got married.

We could leave them alone, let them live their life.

But there's one last thing we want to have a quick look at.

The media has eased off, found other, more interesting things to talk about and our two can live more or less peaceful and undisturbed these days - not really the main theme of the headlines anymore. 

Although, there was an interesting headline a while back.

_Benedict Cumberbatch seals exclusive five year theatre deal!_

And we're quite certain tomorrow's headline might also be a nice one but that's music of the future.

Let's concentrate on the present and on Benedict, who's currently pacing the backstage area of a prestigious theatre in the heart of London, nervously fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt.

His husband is crouched in a corner, peeking through a gap in the curtain into the auditorium which is buzzing with anticipation.

“Sold out,” he murmurs to himself, startling Benedict who looks at him with wide unseeing eyes.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Alex says, standing up again, stretching his aching back.

“Hm.”

Benedict resumes his pacing, his hands fluttering through the air like strange little birds and Alex gets a bit hypnotised by it.

 _One minute_ announces the disembodied voice, tearing Benedict out of his preparations.

“You got this,” Alex says quietly as the other man exhales deeply.

Benedict eyes him silently and then nods once, holding out his hands.

Alex instantly lays his own in them and they stand there for a moment, eyes locked and completely absorbed by one another.

We can almost feel some of Alex's quiet presence transfer into the other man, calming him.

 _30 seconds_.

“Break a leg,” Alex whispers, brushing a soft kiss over Benedict's lips before he lets go and hurries away.

We see him vanish to the side, hear a tiny bell from the depth of the theatre and then the curtain lifts, one simple spotlight illuminating the empty stage.

Peaking around the edge we see a packed auditorium, the anticipation almost palpable in the stale air. It's so quiet we can hear every taken breath, every shuffle of impatient feet of the audience.

Retreating we wait with it.

Benedict stands in the shadows, head lowered, eyes closed, shoulders hunched.

One heartbeat, two, and just as we start to wonder, he looks up, a tiny smile making the corner of his mouth twitch and the crinkles around his eyes deepen. 

And then he slips so seamlessly into his role, it takes our breath away.

It's almost spooky to see how the shell of somebody else lowers around him and envelops him so completely we barely recognise him anymore.

His entire posture changes: his back straightens, he seems taller, leaner, somehow more present, his face becomes suddenly ageless in the soft lighting of the backstage area.

Just where seconds before we saw Benedict, uneasy and shaky, now stands a tall, handsome man, vibrating with energy and so self-confident, almost cocky, the lingering smile spreading until it reaches his eyes, making them sparkle brightly and giving him a carefree aura. 

Holding his head high he takes a deep breath and steps into the light.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it.   
> The story is told.   
> Thank you all for reading.   
> I hope y'all enjoyed reading as much as I enjoy(ed) writing those two.


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